


Garrison Duty

by Cobalt_Blue_Sphere



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28150566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cobalt_Blue_Sphere/pseuds/Cobalt_Blue_Sphere
Summary: The rank and file have feelings too, even if they aren't destined for the spotlight. Most would consider Lunarfall Garrison the last place for such things to be explored, particularly after the expedition's disastrous first steps, but tense times and harsh places are sometimes the best proving ground for a lasting bond.
Relationships: Female Worgen/Male Human(s) (Warcraft)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Landing Safely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossposted from FFNet, since I've decided to actually use this account I've got here now.
> 
> I'm not going to pretend WoD was a good expansion, but I did really like the setting, and I wish it hadn't got robbed dev-wise like it did because it could have been amazing. In any case I hope the expack it's set in doesn't colour the story for you.
> 
> Also, I hope you can forgive any lore inconsistencies or off-kilter theories. I looked stuff up at every opportunity possible and tried to utilize in-game elements like spells and stuff as story pieces, but I was still left with some gaps I had to fill by making some BS up.
> 
> Lastly, a big thanks to my friend Roohski for editing for me, god bless

Anton stood near the prow of the beached ship, looking out towards a small draenei settlement to the west. He could see only a few buildings, but no people - he wondered if they had seen the stolen vessel arrive yet. He wondered what their reaction might be. 

_Even I'm not sure what I should be feeling._

The atmosphere aboard the ship had been horribly mixed, and it had instilled in him a sense of uncertainty. Many were filled with relief to escape the clutches of the Iron Horde, but as many again were overwhelmed with despair for their lost loved ones, or filled with a grim fear that their troubles were only beginning. That atmosphere had only intensified with the boat's rough docking, although he could hardly call it a docking at all; they had simply guided the ship onto the beach and coped with the sudden shock of the stop. The sensible among them had grabbed onto something beforehand.

Both the Alliance and native Draenor survivors were disembarking simply by sliding down the ship's metal side, assisted by a motley assortment of draenei, human and elf standing ready on the sands below. He could even see a few worgen in the throng; he noticed the native draenei giving them a wide berth. He could hardly blame them.

He, however, was in no particular hurry to get off the ship. The draenei natives they had rescued had assured them that Shadowmoon Valley was largely peaceful and quiet, and indeed the starry night sky and softly waving grass did corroborate their story. However, he was hesitant to let his guard down and trust that was the case so soon after their near escape. He wasn't sure if he had the courage to face whatever dangers Draenor fielded.

"Footman Miller. What are you doing?" Anton heard a demanding voice from behind him, and he turned to see his captain striding towards him.

_Well, he's not really my captain._

Captain Daniel Montoy was one of the few people left in any position of authority, and had been helping to keep order on the ship. Anton had been reluctant to follow him at first - he had vaguely remembered hearing about someone with that name being involved in some scandal during the Northrend campaign - but had seen little other option. Some part of him had recognized that it was either follow someone else, or rout.

"Nothing, sir." Anton saluted. "Just looking at our surrounds. There's a few houses off to the west, there, but I can't tell if there's anyone actually living there."

"Sounds like slacking off to me," Captain Montoy narrowed his eyes. "There's a lot of work to be done still. If you're not helping people off the ship then help get the supplies down."

"I wasn't slack -" Anton started, but stopped as fast at the dangerous look on the captain's face. "Right away, sir."

He was out of his footman armor and technically not obligated to obey, nearest he could tell. Then again, with the chain of command as broken as it was, it was probably in his best interests to do it anyway - especially when it was a hardass like Montoy giving the order.

Without another word he scurried off and busied himself carting supplies over to the front of the ship. In lieu of any better idea, the workers and soldiers pitching in had taken to using the same method of delivery that they had for the people; simply pushing them down the curved side of the ship and having people catch them. Probably not the safest way, but at least none of the boxes had broken yet.

As he pitched in heaving crates and packs around, he almost found himself actually enjoying the work. Having something strenuous to do made it easier to forget the disaster that had been their entry into Draenor. How many good men and women had been lost, Alliance and Horde? There had just been so many orcs, so many siege machines... Sure, it had technically been a success - the Dark Portal was thoroughly destroyed. But now, the Alliance forces were so few in number, and thoroughly stranded. There weren't going to be any reinforcements coming through to save them.

Sooner than he would have liked he found himself out of things to lift, and directed down to join the rest of the survivors. Although the task had tired him out somewhat, he knew he’d have to find something else to distract himself with quickly, before he started thinking again about the situation he’d gotten himself into.

_Either that, or something to drink._

He slid down the ship’s side without any fuss, landing on the sand amidst the piled up supplies with a soft thump. There were a few men and women working to sort and organize them, but beyond them a crowd of people were gathering near where the inland edge of the beach – Anton recognized it as exactly what he needed, and joined the stragglers heading over to investigate the commotion.

Between the other spectators he saw a white-haired draenei woman speaking to another, far more wizened draenei. He vaguely recognized her as being among the group of natives they had rescued, but didn’t know her name. "I can vouch for their good intentions, Prophet. The Light has heeded our prayers at last. These heroes have come from another realm - another world entirely - to aid us."

"She says, as though we don't need the help ourselves..." He couldn't stop himself muttering. A night elf next to him shared a concerned glance before returning his eyes to the main conversation.

"It is good to see you again, Yrel. I had feared for your survival." The elderly one she was speaking to said warmly. He turned his eyes out to the crowd as he spoke next, and Anton felt strangely at ease under his gaze. "It is an honor to welcome you to Shadowmoon Valley, heroes. Who among you is in command?"

"I am." A fiery-haired woman stepped forward, her magician's robes a glaring red and gold, her bearing proud and straight backed. This one he recognized. "Commander Dawson, at your service, Prophet Velen. I will be -"

"How do you know my name?" The old draenei – apparently the Prophet - interrupted, a twinkle in his eye.

Anton craned his head to try and get a closer look – he was under the impression that Prophet Velen had remained on the Azeroth side of the Dark Portal. He remembered seeing him there from a distance as he gave his blessing to the assembled forces before they crossed the threshold.

"I, ah - Well, your reputation precedes you." She was clearly caught off guard, but composed herself quickly.

"From as far off as another world?"

Several among the crowd murmured in confusion at the exchange, a sentiment that Anton himself shared in. As far as he knew Velen had had personally spoken with many of the leaders in charge of the excursion - Commander Dawson among them.

_So why are they pretending like they have never met?_

"... Yes. Yes, that far. And... Yrel has told me much about you." The Commander covered herself weakly, and Velen seemed to see right through her. Nonetheless, he did not challenge her. "As I was saying, we will be glad to render whatever assistance we can. Our mission here is to put an end to the aggression of the Iron Horde - I believe we have a common enemy in them."

"That, we do." Velen nodded slowly. "We have ever co-existed with the orcs, but lately, they have decided to rescind their goodwill. Many of our people in neighbouring lands have been lost to them already - killed or kidnapped. Even the peaceful Shadowmoon clan whom we shared this valley with have withdrawn to their fortress and reinforced their outposts - I fear that they mean war, but I would not risk my people's lives until I am sure."

"You need fear that risk no longer, Prophet." A tall draenei resplendent in gold and silver armor stepped forth. "Ner'zhul himself was present in Tanaan with representatives from his clan. They have cast their lot in with the Iron Horde."

Yrel nodded in affirmation of his story, but Velen was not looking at her. He only peered inquisitively at the tall draenei, who shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"My apologies. I feel as though I should recognize you, but I do not."

"There is no fault on your part, Prophet. We... have not met. I am Vindicator Maraad." A slight sadness toned Maraad's reply.

"I see. Then... If what you say is true, our list of enemies grows." Velen sighed. "Your aid will be most welcome indeed, champions."

"And we will be glad to give it, but I'm afraid I must ask a boon of you first, Prophet." Commander Dawson spoke.

"A place to lodge your people, I imagine?" Velen predicted, to her affirmation. "A wise idea. The foremost concern of any leader should be their people's welfare. As it happens, the answer to your problem may lie right here. It is fortunate that you made landfall where you did - this location commands the entrance to our valley, and I am prepared to allow your people its use. I trust Yrel's judgment well - I believe you won't misuse it."

"I assure you, I won't." Commander Dawson said firmly. "The dismantling of the Iron Horde is our first priority. I won't betray your trust."

"Good." He nodded, then turned back to Yrel, who was looking slightly flushed at his praise. "Yrel, would you speak with me alone for a moment? Excuse us, please."

The conversation broke as Velen led Yrel away, and the onlooking crowd around Anton immediately burst into whispered mutterings as he tried to wrap his head around the odd discussion he’d just borne witness to. He couldn’t make heads nor tails of why both Maraad and the Commander were pretending they hadn’t met Velen, or why he wouldn’t remember meeting them.

_Unless... Wait, we’re technically back in time, aren’t we? Maybe he actually hasn’t ever met them yet...? That doesn’t make sense. Does it?_

A throaty voice grumbled from next to him, interrupting his train of thought. "I wonder what this means for us. Are we already beholden to these draenei now?"

"Well, I suppose we are. But then, we would have had -" His reply caught in his mouth as he turned to look at the other speaker, and instead found himself at eye level with a distressingly noticeable bust. The unexpected sight commanded his wide-eyed attention for a moment before it even occurred to him to see who it belonged to.

It was a brown-furred worgen woman who stood next to him, clad in a leather gambeson and taller than he was by almost a head and a half. He had to stop himself from taking a reflexive step back as he looked up to meet her hard, judgmental stare. It was difficult not to feel intimidated after being caught out looking by someone bigger than him.

"... That is, I suppose we would have had to be beholden to someone. We're alone out here, against an army." He recovered and managed to choke out a reply.

"True enough." She groused reluctantly. Her hard glare lingered on him for a moment before she turned away.

Scary. Guess I didn't make the best first impression, though.

Captain Montoy's impatient voice rang out from behind them before she could get far. "Miller! Brown! What are you two doing?"

"What? I was just talking." Anton said defensively. The worgen - aptly named Brown, apparently – stopped but didn't deign to respond beyond glaring.

"I expect better out of both of you! You're both trained soldiers! You're here gawping and gawking while it's all hands on deck?" Montoy snapped. Anton's stung pride urged him to respond, chain of command be damned, but the captain continued his tirade before he could. "This is a strenuous situation and we need every eye, hand and blade at attention right now! Miller, the Prophet's lended us a few talbuks - go help load them up with supplies. Brown - where's your armor? Never mind – Get your weapon and go keep an eye out around the edge of the crowd. I don't know what's out there in that forest, but I want someone who can handle themselves there just in case. Now!"

The worgen slunk off towards the trees, her shoulders tense as though she was barely holding her anger in check. Anton decided to follow her lead and set about his task without argument. Montoy was an asshole, and though he dearly wanted to kick up a stink, he recognized it wasn't a good idea to at this point. Anyway, if that worgen could do it, he could do it just as well.

He turned his eye back to the supplies still near the ship, noting that the commotion there had only increased. A few goat-like creatures were being saddled with bags and boxes, their tan-coloured coat standing out starkly from the sand – they had to be the talbuk things Montoy had mentioned. They looked quite strange to him, but the group of people working with them seemed to be treating them no different from simple pack mules.

No sooner had he began looking for somewhere he could pitch in than a fantastically moustachioed gnome intercepted him, addressing him tersely. "We're shorthanded and unorganized. If you're not here to help then please get out of the way, this is hard enough as it is."

"I am.” Anton answered simply. “What do you need done?"

"How much can you carry?" He pointed at bags and boxes of equipment. "We've got too much gear and too few... er, horses. Or talbuks, whatever. Wherever we're going, everyone's going to have to pitch in carrying."

He sighed in resignation as he loaded himself up. He’d looked for something to distract himself, and now it seemed he would have exactly that.

_This is going to be a long night._

* * *

* * *

After his third round trip carrying gear uphill to the prospective camp's location, Anton found his prediction was even truer than he had feared. The moon hadn't even moved an inch, and the stars almost seemed to be taunting him from their position in the heavens. This night was going to be long enough that it might well last forever.

As he relieved his back of another load of supplies, he decided it would be better that he count his blessings. At least it wasn't that long a distance, and none of the wildlife had decided to accost them as they hauled the stuff around. He took a moment to stretch and look around the site.

The workers were chewing into the forest something fierce, felling and uprooting trees at a rate that surprised him. There was already a sizable clearing, but it was being filled just as fast with logs dragged to form a makeshift wall. Those not working seemed to have been organized into a makeshift militia to protect the laborers, with footmen and magicians patrolling the site side by side.

The efficiency of it impressed him. It seemed like there would be a safe camp for them to sleep in within a matter of hours, something he was glad for with his stamina flagging as it was. He had lost count now of how many hours he'd actually been awake.

A loud commotion from the south end of the clearing dispelled his thoughts and drew his attention. He could hear screaming and yelling, interspersed with the sounds of battle - steel clashing and spells detonating. Without hesitation, he drew his sword and took off running towards them. His mind was already rushing into overdrive, leaving his previous fearful thoughts back at the supply caravan as it pumped him up for a fight.

_This is my job. Screw peasant work._

Several of the other soldiers and spellcasters had the same thoughts as him, abandoning their patrol to pitch into the battle. They sprinted alongside him, weaving between terrified workers as they fled towards safety. Something was definitely up.

As he approached, he didn't see the large fight he envisioned. Rather, the dozen-or-so fighters involved seemed to be converging on one point - one opponent. Between the blasts of multi-coloured magic striking it, he couldn't tell exactly what it was, only that it was near to twice as large as any of the Alliance combatants there.

The thing raised its massive grey hands above its head with an earthshaking roar, and brought them down to the ground with a colossal quake to match. He tripped for a moment, but managed to recover his pace - most of the others running towards the battle were not as lucky as him, losing their footing completely and toppling to the ground. Those already in the fight fared even worse; all but a few had fell, leaving them easy prey for the thing.

With the scene cleared, he could see it clearly now. It was a creature that looked to be made of dark rock and crystal - it reminded him of an earth elemental, but far more solidly built than any of the few he had seen on Azeroth. Even hunched over like a Stranglethorn gorilla as it was, it towered above everyone else.

It raised one of its hands above its head again and lumbered forward on its other three limbs, intending to crush its fallen foes. He pushed himself to run harder as he realized what it was doing, desperate to distract it before it got a chance. Blood thundered through his ears as he sprinted, but he still knew he would never make it in time.

_Come on, come on, come -_

All of a sudden his left side was bathed in an overwhelming heat and an intense orange light entered his field of vision. He gasped and shied away from it, startled into slowing despite the adrenaline rushing through him. As it soared away from him he realized that it was a great ball of pure fire, on a collision course with the elemental. It had probably missed him by mere inches.

The elemental didn't even have time to notice the pyroblast's coming as it slammed into its shoulder with a resounding report that rumbled through Anton's bones. For a moment the monster disappeared within a bright, fiery explosion and a prodigious shower of broken stone, leaving the soldiers around it to avert their eyes and cover their heads as they got to their feet.

He turned to see who had conjured the spell and witnessed Commander Dawson herself, her brilliant red robe billowing behind her as she ran, illuminated by the orange glow of another fire spell being readied. Somehow, she had perfectly cast and aimed such a massive, devastating pyroblast while running at full tilt; the sheer power behind the attack made him wonder what else she might be capable of.

The smoke and dust cleared enough that the elemental's outline was visible again, and he berated himself for stopping as he took off toward it again. Its entire right arm had been blasted off its body and a good chunk of its stony shoulder and torso were missing, but the thing was still upright as it staggered forward out of the dust cloud. It was clearly planning on going down fighting.

_I wonder if it even realizes it's injured._

The Alliance forces took advantage of its weakened state, darting in and out of its reach as they stabbed and slashed at it. Spellcasters and riflemen now had all the room they needed to hammer away at it with spell and shot, standing safely a few dozen feet away as they attacked it with impunity. Most of their strikes seemed to bounce off or impact harmlessly, but a few penetrated its rocky hide, injuring and aggravating it further.

As he finally neared the melee a bloodcurdling predator's roar sent a chill down his spine. A worgen leapt out of the throng with a hammer raised above her head, intent on putting the thing down. With a start he realized it was the same worgen he had spoken to earlier, the Brown woman.

She never made it. The elemental lifted itself off its one good arm for a moment and delivered a solid backhanded swipe toward her, catching her directly across the stomach. Her roar turned into a yelp and the hammer left her hands as she was catapulted through the air, just barely clearing the crowd below to land pitifully in the grass a good dozen feet away from the fight.

He immediately changed course, but didn't have a chance to do much more than that. Another colossal pyroblast soared past just barely in front of him, headed straight towards the monster. He turned to see it impact its caved-in shoulder with another tremendous explosion, this time shattering it completely. Crystal shards and clumps of rubble were launched in every direction, breaking bones and scoring flesh as they struck the unprepared Alliance soldiers.

Anton himself didn't have time to react to the rock that hit him as it smashed into his ribs, toppling him immediately. His world became flooded by pain as he hit the ground, and all he could think of was struggling to breathe.

Shortly enough that struggle left him as he blacked out on the pale grass.

* * *

* * *

As he awoke his first sensation was of that same pain, greatly dulled but still enough to force him to clench his eyes shut until it dissipated.

When it finally passed, he tentatively opened his eyes to see a white canvas roof above him. He could dimly hear indistinct murmuring from all directions - wherever he was, he was not on the battlefield anymore.

He tried to sit up, but the pain returned even stronger than before. He couldn't help but fall back onto the bed with a moan.

"You're awake!" A draenei woman's voice said from somewhere near him. "No, no, don't sit up. You took a hard hit - Just relax, you'll be alright. You are safe now, just relax."

He turned his head this way and that, blinking through the pain to try and find her. "W-what happened...?"

"You were hit by rubble from that thing exploding. You're in the medical wing now. You had near the worst of it, really... Most everyone else received only small scratches and bruises."

"Lucky me..." He finally located her from her voice, struggling to focus on the vague image his brain was feeding him until with a flood of relief he finally managed to make out her bright white eyes and dark blue hair.

_I can't be that bad off. I can still see, and think, and stuff..._

"So... How bad is it?" He asked, trying to keep the pain and fatigue out of his voice.

"Not... terrible." She said, just optimistically enough that he couldn't tell if she was lying or not. "Worse than the others, but not terrible. You had some scrapes, and some small burns... Two ribs were broken, but through the grace of the Light, we have mended them already. Now, your body must do the rest of the healing work, and you must rest while it does."

He let his head fall back onto the pillow without answering. He couldn't think of anything to say.

"I must work elsewhere now," She continued gently, patting him on the shoulder. "You must rest here. Soon you'll be well again, don't fear. Call out if you need help. You are not alone."

She trotted away out of his sight, and he closed his eyes with a sigh. His whole body ached.

For a while, he drifted in and out of a hazy, dreamless sleep. In the moments he could recognize he was awake he painstakingly investigated his surroundings, trying to ignore the pounding of his head and keep focus on anything he could see. He slowly came to realize that he was in a field tent, probably set up after the fight to address the injuries the elemental caused.

After several times falling asleep and waking, Anton's head finally cleared enough to inspect the tent more closely. He could see several other Alliance soldiers in there with him, on simple cots of wood and white cotton. The one on his right was a human like him - he spoke a greeting, hoping to make conversation, but the man was either asleep or ignoring him.

He turned to the patient on his left, and was surprised to see the Brown worgen again, looking straight up at the tent roof. The odd shape of her face made her softly-glowing eyes visible; she was obviously awake, but pointedly ignoring everything to stare resolutely upward at the roof.

"Hey." He whispered to her, keeping his voice down. He didn't want to disturb the others.

She didn't answer. She didn't even acknowledge him.

_Maybe she didn't hear._

"Hey, you. Worgen." He tried again a little louder, and was rewarded with the sight of her ear twitching. She had clearly heard him, but still kept her gaze stonily on the roof. "Hey, Brown. Over here."

"What?" She finally snapped at the mention of her name, turning irritably to face him.

He realized then that he couldn't actually think of anything to say. He hadn't thought past the 'get her attention' part. The slightly alarming sight of her snarling mouth made it hard to think of anything decent to start a conversation with, as well.

"... Do you know what happened out there?" He asked, after a beat to get his bearings.

"No. I got knocked out." She said shortly.

"Oh. Yeah, I saw that," Her gaze turned reproachful, forcing him to backtrack. "I just mean... It was impressive. Would have been a great trick if it had worked."

"Yeah, but it didn't." She turned her eyes back to the roof.

"Oh, well... I got knocked out, too. I didn't even get to do anything." He offered, hoping to cheer her up.

She scoffed. "Well, at least you didn't make yourself look like an idiot, then."

"I don't think you looked like an idiot. I bet any orc would have pissed their pants at the sight of you."

She didn't say anything to that, and a heavy silence fell between them.

"What's your name?" Anton tried again to spark a talk. "Your first name. I only know you're called Brown."

"If I tell you, will you let me sleep?" She asked resignedly, and he nodded after a moment's consideration. "Emily."

"It's nice to meet you, Emily. My name's Anton." He said quietly before he let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Sorry I disturbed you. Sleep does sound pretty nice, actually... Dunno how long I've been awake..."

He didn't try any more after that, choosing instead to just slowly drift off into sleep.

Right before his eyes fell closed, he could have sworn he heard a muttering of "Same here" come from her cot, and he smiled slightly.


	2. Settling In

"I'm telling you, I feel fine. I'm fine!" Anton declared defiantly.

He was standing upright near the entrance to the medical tent, arguing his case to be discharged. The draenei who had tended to him earlier now stood in staunch opposition, with her hands on her hips as though she thought to scold him. He had learned her name was Noxiia Atoh, and that she was an Anchorite who lived at some nearby village whose name he couldn't remember. After she had refused to let him go despite his repeated assurances of his wellbeing, he had also learned that he did not like her very much.

"You had two broken ribs. You had burns on your face and side. You likely have still severe bruising of flesh. You were lucky as it was." She stated flatly, her arms folded. "And now you are telling me that you are completely well, despite all of that? Maybe you humans heal faster than we draenei, maybe, but I refuse to believe that fast."

"Look, I don't know what else to tell you." He threw his arms up in exasperation. "I can walk. I can run, I could probably do a dwarvish river dance if that's what it takes to convince you. I'm absolutely fine!"

"Can you fight? That is my concern. Your job is to fight, yes?"

"I absolutely can fight." He insisted.

"And you know this for certain, even though you have not done it to see." She said, laying on sarcasm as thick as he'd ever heard it despite her butchery of the Common tongue.

"Yes! Absolutely for certain!" He almost yelled in frustration, only managing to keep his voice in check for the sake of the infirm still recovering. "Can you please just let me out so I can do my job? You know they're shorthanded enough as it is out there!"

At that her face finally softened slightly, and he knew he'd hit a weak point. Her brow furrowed as she thought it over. She shook her head uncertainly. "That is true, but... You were badly injured. You need rest and recovering."

"You told me that I was fine before, and I've rested enough. I feel like I'm going to go crazy if I have to lay down anymore." He said seriously.

"... Alright. Fine." She finally relented. "But you must be careful of straining yourself so soon, or you will be in here again, and I will be very... Disappointed."

He tried not to let his relief show in his face, unwilling to tempt the stern look on hers. "I won't. Don't worry."

She finally dismissed him with a short wave of her hand, and he gladly left and took his first steps back out into open sunlight.

_Well, moonlight, anyway._

He noticed with some disappointment that the moon still hadn't moved an inch, and without that, he had no way of knowing exactly how long he'd spent in there. The time had started to drag on unbearably after he'd woke up again. He'd thought about trying to strike up another conversation with the worgen, only to realize that her cot was empty. In another stroke of bad luck, his other neighbour had still been fast asleep, leaving him to wallow in anxious boredom until Anchorite Atoh had just now finally agreed to let him out.

Now he just had to report in to the captain - But before he could do that, he had to find him.

"Hey, buddy." Anton hailed a laborer passing the medical tent with a bag full of tools in his hand. "You know where Captain Montoy is right now?"

The worker jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Probably the barracks, just up there."

Anton turned to look in the direction he had pointed, and was met with the sight of a squat wooden building near the edge of the camp.

"That wasn't there before." He muttered.

"We just finished work on it about a few hours ago." The worker said, sounding harried. "I gotta go, I gotta get these tools to the south gate."

He turned and left without waiting for a response, leaving Anton to call a "Thank you!" out after him.

_Damn, walls and gates already up? They've been busy. How long was I even out?_

The garrison was alive around him as he walked towards the newly built barracks. Everywhere he looked there was frenetic work being done. Besides the barracks he could see two other buildings hastily being erected, and teams of people and talbuks hauling in lumber and stone to the construction sites from a gate to the northeast. He noticed most of the Draenor natives they had found in Tanaan were milling about near the south gate, but even then most of them seemed to be occupied with some kind of busywork. He could see a few draenei sitting down in the dirt, weaving baskets, and a few others who had just come in through the gate bringing them handfuls of some grass or something to work with. He'd never actually weaved a basket in his life - you wouldn't find many people from Stormwind who had, frankly.

The one-room barracks looked like a bit of a rush job, but he could appreciate that it was clearly functional as he stepped over the threshold onto the even stone flooring. There was not much in the way of privacy, however - the bunks looked almost as barebones as the cots in the medical tent had, and most of them were simply arranged near the walls with little more than enough room to walk left between them.

_Still, it's a roof over your head._

"Miller! Good timing. Get over here." He heard Captain Montoy's voice from the back of the room, and saw him sitting behind a rough wooden table. There was a half dozen armored soldiers of different races gathered around it.

"Good... er - morning, I think - sir. Just got away from the medical tent." Anton greeted him as he approached.

He had seen most of the people surrounding the table onboard the ship at one point or another, but didn't know many of them by name - he wondered if any of them had actually reported to Montoy before they had come through the Dark Portal, or if he had cobbled them together like he had with Anton. He recognized Emily Brown among them, who struck a slightly more dignified figure in her platemail armor than both the roaring beast and the irritable infirm she had been yesterday. She regarded him for a second with an inquisitive look - and a sniff, to his slight discomfort - before returning her attention to the captain.

"Good. Are you fit to take up a guard post?" Montoy asked. At Anton's nod, he continued on with an approving tone. "Good. That's fine timing. I was just about to finalize rosters for positions around the three main gates, so you can get to work right away. Your bunk's over near the far wall - it's got your name on it - and your weapon and armor are in the box next to it. Get suited up and report back."

_Well, he seems to be in a much better mood today. Must be because we've got a nice, safe wall around us now._

Anton left the gathering was relieved to find that his armor - and especially his underarmor - was all there as he opened the box. He had only once made the mistake of suiting up without his gambeson, and it was not one he planned to make again.

He threw on his blue-trimmed plate with some difficulty - it was hard to get into the unyielding steel gear without some help, but still manageable. As he strapped his last glove on and stood, he saw the group that had previously been around the table tromping out the door. He returned to Montoy's table as hastily as he could manage.

"Where do you need me, sir?" He asked with a salute.

"Northeast gate," Montoy said, not even looking up from the paper he was now writing on. "You're on shift for twelve hours. You'll be relieved by the Starhelm twins. Dismissed."

_Starhelm? Sounds like a night elf name._

He left the barracks with the confidence that only a man with a weapon and a suit of armor could manage. He was rested, and as ready as he could be - What more did he need? He started heavily towards the northeast gate - and nearly crashed headlong into Emily Brown, who growled and pulled her feet out of the way just before he trod on them.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"Sorry! Sorry. Didn't realize you were there." He apologized, and started again for the northeast gate as he moved past her.

He was surprised when she fell into step beside him with another annoyed growl. "Well, I was waiting for you."

What she'd said didn't register with him for a second, but when it did it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

"Wait, you were? What for? Are we on shift together?" He asked.

"Mhmm." She answered simply.

_Huh. It sure would have been nice for Montoy to mention that._

He wasn't exactly sure how to feel about the idea. Although they were part of the Alliance, he hadn't had any dealings with any worgen, personally. The nearest he'd been to one - before he'd gotten an up-close-and-personal view of her yesterday, anyway - was walking past them occasionally on the Stormwind streets.

_... I hope she's gotten over that quick look. It's not like I could help it, anyway._

He hurried to catch up with her.

"So... Did Montoy mention anything we should -"

"Come on, people, step it up here! We got hungry bellies to fill!" A wheedling shout that was trying too hard to sound commanding interrupted him, bringing them both to a halt as it diverted their attentions.

Anton recognized the voice; it was that gnome who had headed up the supply train when they arrived, shrieking blowhard bravado at the top of his lungs. He now stood on top of a cart near the centre of the garrison, yelling directions at a large group of people as they hitched talbuks to wagons and loaded them up with tools. Vindicator Maraad, Commander Dawson and another draenei that he didn't recognize were observing from the edge of the group - to Anton's relief, the gnome abruptly shut up and saluted as Commander Dawson approached him.

"His voice is a lot more annoying when he's trying to act all tough," Anton grumbled.

"You know him?" Emily asked, giving him a slightly judgmental look.

"Helped him haul supplies up to the camp."

The gnome and the Commander talked about something for a few moments, but they were thankfully too far away to hear. Before long, the gnome saluted again and screeched the order to move out - he noted with relish that Dawson winced heavily and had to hold herself back from covering her ears.

"Ah. The little one is the taskmaster." Anton overheard the unknown draenei remark with amusement.

"You'll find our Alliance is full of surprises, Exarch Akama." Maraad chuckled as Dawson returned to them. "As I was saying - This is the Commander I told you about. She has distinguished herself several times over in the Alliance's service. I count myself honored to have seen her in battle firsthand."

Anton only shook his head as he heard that, remembering the colossal fireballs that had twice nearly grazed him. He couldn't say he felt honored about that at all - if anything, he felt a little bit nervous.

"Commander Dawson, you have built a most impressive garrison, and in such a short time." Akama gave a short bow as he greeted her. "I am eager to see your men in action against the Iron Horde."

"It's an honor to meet you, Exarch." She bowed in return. "We won't disappoint, I assure you."

"We'd probably better not just stand here eavesdropping. Come on," Emily hissed in his ear abruptly and started walking away towards the gate. Once again, Anton found himself hurrying to catch up.

"We will see you in Elodor, Commander. Best of luck here." He heard Maraad say as they walked away.

"Wait, did you hear that? The commander's leaving." Anton said, slightly alarmed. “Is she allowed to do that? Just ditch her post and leave us here?”

_Are we being abandoned already? Do the higher-ups have that little faith in us?_

Emily snuck a glance behind her as she walked but didn't break stride. "It looks like she's going back into the command post to me."

A quick look of his own confirmed that was indeed the case. "But I just heard that Maraad guy say he would see her in Elodor..."

"Maybe she's not leaving right now." Emily shrugged. "We've got a job to do either way. Come on."

"Well... You're right. I suppose it's probably best we be about it since they're already singing our praises." He joked with a smile, but he knew it wasn't reaching his eyes.

* * *

* * *

Soon enough, the novelty of a fresh post started to wear off on Anton, as it always did. You could embellish it with whatever name or fancy description you liked, but at the end of the day it really amounted to standing around one spot for half the day, and that would only stay exciting for so long. About the only things of interest over the last few hours had been watching a group of laborers digging out the beginnings of a mine just outside the gates, and making way for them every now and again as they hauled in cartloads of stone. Inspecting the carts and the people coming through had quickly turned from intriguing to monotonous, and Anton and Emily had long since given up actually checking them and now simply waved them through.

_I hardly think we need to worry about anyone trying to sneak in with a disguise or something, after all. Who even knows we're here, except a few draenei?_

The deliveries had become less frequent as the miners had to dig deeper, leaving plenty of time for him to watch their surroundings. The creatures of the Shadowmoon forest seemed to have decided to stay away from the commotion of activity that was the construction of a garrison. It was a mixed blessing; On the one hand, nothing to worry about. On the other hand, nothing to break the monotony, even just a little bit. He might have complained, but he knew guard duty was a necessary thing, and someone had to do it. Besides, an easy job was probably preferable after the hellish journey that had been their escape from Tanaan.

Nonetheless, the result was a lot of time spent simply standing idle with sword and shield in hand - or in her case, hammer and shield. He had to wonder about that - in all his time in the Stormwind Guard, he and his fellows had only ever been allowed to use standard-issued broadswords.

_Well, there’s not much going on right now. Might as well ask._

"So..." As he started, she turned her head to him with a bored look. "That hammer. They let you have a hammer?"

"What do you mean 'let'?" She asked, clutching it a bit more tightly as if afraid he'd try and take it. "It's my hammer."

"What, and Montoy's okay with you using it? Back in the Guard, they were always so specific about us using our 'issued gear'. Wouldn't let us have anything else."

She waved her shield hand at the forest around them. "Well, I think we're a bit out of the realm of standard issue equipment right now. He probably just doesn't care."

"Yeah, probably." Still his curiosity wasn't satisfied. "So, why a hammer instead of a sword, then?"

By way of answer she stood her hammer head-down on the ground and brandished her long claws. "If I need to cut something, I'm already well equipped for that. More often's the time I need something to crack a skull with."

"Right. Makes sense." He gulped as she retrieved her weapon, somewhat intimidated by the display. "Do, uh... Do those claws ever get in the way?"

"Of what?"

"Of anything. You know. It seems like they'd be hard to live with. Like you'd slice stuff accidentally when you're just doing everyday stuff."

She didn't give him an answer this time. She only looked at him, her ears flicking uncomfortably and her brows furrowed - in anger, suspicion or worry, he couldn't tell.

"Sorry. Just a question of curiosity." He decided it would be better to keep her goodwill than make her uncomfortable. He'd been on guard duty long enough to know that getting on your partner's bad side could make life very ugly, very quickly.

Nonetheless, she opened her mouth slowly to answer. "I... I suppose they do, sometimes. I guess I've just gotten used to it. I usually try and grab things with my palms instead of my fingers nowadays."

_Well, that's... Interesting, I guess._

He didn't know what to actually say about that, though. Again his mouth was running faster than his head - He wasn't actually sure now if he wanted answers to this line of questions.

He decided that a quick change of topic was in order. "How far away do you reckon Elodor is?"

"Uh... I don't know." She eyed him oddly, but her guttural voice sounded slightly relieved at the new topic. "Can't be too far... Not if the Commander's sending a whole caravan there, right? They have to come back at some point."

"Makes sense." Anton said, tossing the matter over in his mind. He'd just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, but now realized he was actually curious. "They were going to get food, weren't they? I wonder why that gnome was with them."

"He was the foreman, wasn't he?"

"I don’t know, he never actually introduced himself to me. Foreman, huh? So, what, they're going to be working for it?"

"What else could they do?" Emily shrugged. "As far as I know, we don't have much of a treasury to pay them with."

"Yeah, or to pay us. I suppose that means we won't be getting to take any trips to the tavern for a while. I wonder what kind of weird sauce those draenei even have..." He glowered, until an even darker thought crossed his mind. "Hang on. How long are we going to be here, anyway?"

"Until the Iron Horde's destroyed, I suppose." She shrugged. "Why? It's not like we can leave until they're gone, anyway. They'll just follow us again."

"Yeah, but that's the thing." He said worriedly. "How exactly is it that we're supposed to leave? We smashed the Dark Portal to hell. Are we... Do you think we're we stuck here?"

"No. No, I saw Archmage Khadgar open a portal back to Stormwind, when they were bringing the laborers through." She said confidently, before frowning as though remembering something unpleasant. "Although... I heard him say he could only keep it open for a minute."

"Well, that doesn't do much to soothe the nerves. He's like the strongest mage we've got, him and the Commander, and if he could barely do it..."

Emily murmured her agreement, a worried look on her face. He would have laughed at the uncanny expression if it weren't so serious; her ears were flat down against her head like a kicked dog's. All he could really think of, however, was the fact that the possibility of him ever returning home was dependent on two very powerful people who owed him nothing. Two mages, no less; high value targets for the enemy.

_And if anything happens to them, my hopes of ever seeing Stormwind again are as good as shot._

"And the Commander's leaving the base soon," He mumbled under his breath. He saw Emily flick her ears, a telltale sign that she'd heard him, so he decided he may as well share. "And I don't even know where Khadgar is, either. I haven't seen him since before we got off the ship. So... Basically, we might not get to go home, if we can't protect two people who we don't even know where they are."

"Well, it's..." Emily trailed off, shaking her head and then looking off into the distance. He could not tell if she was truly unsure or just unwilling to voice her thoughts.

"I wonder if we won't all need to take up farming soon." He said dryly. "We might be here for a while."

* * *

* * *

"Starting to get a bit boring." Anton remarked, swinging his broadsword idly. "I wonder how long until our shift's up."

"I don't know. I think I'd rather take boring over the 'excitement' of the last few days, though." Emily said roughly.

"Oh, yeah, me too. I shouldn't complain, I suppose..." He trailed off. "But, I'm still looking forward to knocking off and getting something to eat."

Emily only nodded in agreement. He'd noticed she could be rather quiet sometimes.

He saw her ears flick behind her once before she swivelled her head around for a proper look. Following her lead, he turned to see a dwarf woman approaching them from inside the garrison, garbed in a miner's tough gear but carrying a bundle of rolled-up papers under her arm. To his puzzlement, she still looked to be about thirty or forty yards off, by Anton's reckoning.

"How did you know she was there? Could you really hear her from that far off?"

"Mhmm." Came Emily's simple affirmation. "She's not exactly being subtle."

Indeed as the dwarf neared them, he was able to make out her humming a merry tune as she walked.

_I wonder if all worgen can hear from that far away. That's kind of disturbing._

"Hallo! Fine day today, innit?" The dwarf broke her song to greet them merrily.

"Looks like it's still evening to me," Anton replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, according to those draenei, it's around noon! It is a bit dark out for it though, I'll say." She chuckled.

Anton looked up to the sky for a moment. The moon still shone stubbornly from the exact same place in the heavens.

"... This place is weird." He muttered, before returning his attention to the dwarf. "So, you got business in the mine, I imagine?"

"Aye! M'name's Brightstone. I'm Baros Alexston's assistant." She puffed her chest out proudly, patting the scrolls she was carrying with her free arm. "Just off to the mine to inspect the site. Makin' sure everything's proceedin' as planned, you know. It won't do if there's anythin' behind schedule or not up to snuff - We got big plans for that mine, after all."

Anton was surprised by the mention of Baros Alexston’s name – he was the chief city architect of Stormwind. Presumably he was here to oversee the garrison’s construction, but why on earth a man like that would sign up to come to a place like this was beyond him.

He gave an internal shrug. It wasn’t that important, he supposed. The man’s reasons were his own, and probably as simple as his own anyway; money.

"Sounds fine to me." Anton ended up saying as he snapped himself out of his thoughts, stepping off the path and out of her way. "Go on through."

"Thank ye kindly!" She beamed as she walked past.

Not a few paces away she stopped and turned to them again.

"Say, you two are working for that Captain Montoy, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, it might please you to know that Mr. Alexston is already drawing up blueprints to improve that barracks of yers. Bunk rooms an’ a mess hall an’ everything! How's that sound?" She asked enthusiastically.

"Hey, sounds good to me." Anton grinned. "It'll be nice to have some proper quarters to sleep in. And a real bed."

Emily didn't reply except for a nod and a polite smile, but that was apparently good enough for Brightstone, who happily resumed her song and her trek to the mine.

"You really don't talk much, do you?" Anton asked inquisitively.

"Don't got much to say about some things." She said easily.

"Not even about a new barracks?" He pressed. "Proper quarters and bedding and everything, like we're supposed to have?"

"Not really supposed to," She chided. "I don't know about you, but I can sleep on just about anything."

"Really. One of the perks of being a worgen, I suppose?" He tried not to let on that her remark had actually stung somewhat.

_Does she just think she's better than me or something?_

"One of the perks of roughing it in the wilderness, more like. You get used to sleeping where you can." She cast an appraising gaze down on him, which he met head on. "You should try it sometime. It builds character."

_Never thought I'd meet someone who'd get snobby about not using a bed. Builds character? Yeah, you're definitely a character, alright._

He held his frosty words away from his tongue, sating himself with a disbelieving shake of his head before returning his eyes to the forest they were supposed to be guarding garrison from.

She let the matter drop, perhaps sensing she'd stepped too far. Whatever the reason, it was good enough for him as long as she didn't have anything more to say about it.

"Good day." A man's somber voice suddenly chimed in from behind them, making both of them jump and causing Emily to yelp loudly. He had to stifle his laughter as an embarrassed look covered her face - seemed like she hadn't heard him coming.

They turned around to see two night elves standing behind them; a man and a woman, both with bright white eyes shining beneath deep purple hair. Both were taller than he was, but at least they'd left enough room that he wasn't looking right at their chest this time. They were dressed in identical purple chainmail and carried the same armaments - a simple buckler and a strange, circular three-bladed weapon he vaguely recognized as an elven glaive. They serenely ignored the reaction they'd inspired, but whether out of ignorance or politeness he wasn't sure.

"I saw you both in the barracks earlier, as well as on the ship. Miller and Brown, correct?" The woman asked softly, to which Anton and Emily replied with a nod. "A pleasure to speak with you properly. I am Kalandra Starhelm. This is my brother, Desarune."

"Ah, you're the guys Captain Montoy said would be relieving us." Anton said with recognition, reaching out his hand in greeting.

"Indeed." Desarune said as he shook it, his grip firm despite his quiet demeanour. "Is there anything we should be made aware of before we take watch?"

"Uh, no, not really. You'll probably get a visit from that Brightstone woman - a dwarf, carrying a lot of papers - once she's done in the mine. Other than that, it was pretty quiet except for the carts coming in and out." The night elves nodded their acknowledgement in unison as Anton spoke.

"Thank you. You are formally relieved; we will take our shifts, now." Desarune said with confidence.

Anton again had to keep from laughing as the night elves took up their positions, this time at the seriousness they spoke with. They were acting like a boring guard position was the most consequential, critical task Azeroth - or Draenor - had ever seen.

He ambled easily through the bustling garrison, following along behind Emily's brisk clip as they headed to the barracks to report in. He didn't see the rush; sure, they still had to report back in to Montoy, but they could stand to take it a bit slower now that their shift was over. He didn't bother trying to keep up with her as she started to break away from him, and when she finally decided to leave him behind with a quick look back and a shake of her head, he only scoffed under his breath.

_Think whatever you like, bitch._

He let his gaze wander around the camp until his eyes fell on something that intrigued him - Commander Dawson just outside the command lodge, speaking animatedly with two women, a night elf and another human. The night elf appeared to be garbed in clothes made out of dark feathers and bark - probably one of their druids, he supposed. The other woman was suited in armor of blue and gold, but the ribbons of silk and sheer size of the shoulderpieces suggested that it was just ornamental.

Apparently he had only caught the tail end of the conversation, as it ended rather abruptly when the elf saluted and took off towards the south gate, while the commander and the blue-armored woman retreated into the lodge.

"Gawping again, Miller?" Captain Montoy's stern voice came up from behind him.

"Hey - I'm off duty this time." He said firmly. Not a snowball's chance in hellfire he would be pushed around by Montoy on off hours.

"You mean you're 'off duty, sir'." Montoy corrected him sternly."I am the man in charge here, Miller, even if I'm not the man you were under when you came through the portal. I expect you to act accordingly."

"Of course, sir." Anton gritted his teeth and answered. "Sorry, sir."

"Good." Montoy's eyes softened slightly in response. "Look, I get that it's not ideal, but the situation's still volatile and respecting the chain of command is as fundamental to our goal here as it ever was. An army only functions as long as everyone respects their place, and we’re alone out here up against a whole world’s worth of orcs."

Anton blinked. That had not at all been what he'd been expecting to hear. "Right. Er, sir."

"Brown's already working on your shift report." Montoy's voice returned to its usual brusqueness. "She says she'll handle it, but see that you join her next time. I expect your paperwork to be punctual and done well, as much as I expect vigilance at your post."

"Of course, sir. Won't happen again." Anton said with a salute, and Montoy clapped him on the shoulder before walking past him in the direction of the command lodge. Anton slowly headed back to the barracks, now wondering how much of the captain's draconian act was just that - an act.

Roughly half the bunks were occupied as he passed the guard on duty and entered the one-room barracks. Emily was sitting at a table on the opposite side of the room, writing her report - she looked up to meet his eyes for a moment, but returned to her work without saying anything. At that moment, Anton was perfectly happy to ignore her in turn.

_I don't really need her goodwill anyway. I'll get through my shifts one way or another._

He shed his armor and slipped into his bunk with as little noise as he could, seeking not to disturb the other soldiers as they rested, as he hoped they would do for him. He could use some sleep himself.


	3. Shift Two

Anton slept more deeply than he would have thought, considering the idleness of his guard post. Still, as he blearily sat up in his bunk, he thought he could have done with a few more hours.

He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to force his half-awake brain into action. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or what time it was now - the ever-present moonlight filtering in through the door offering him no help in this regard. The extent of his grasp on the situation was that he was previously asleep, and he'd been woken up by someone's voice shouting something in his ear.

"Brown. Up." Anton heard the voice again from nearby, commanding enough to cut through the feeling of disorientation but soft enough to unnecessarily disturb those still sleeping. "The Starhelm twins will be expecting you to relieve them soon."

"Right away, Sergeant." He heard Emily's hoarse voice respond, sounding attentive despite just being woken up.

_I do not need her showing me up any more than she has already._

Anton glowered as he hauled himself out of bed and threw himself into the morning routine. There were less amenities than he was used to in this garrison, but he didn't offer up a word of complaint as he made ready for duty in record time. He even took it in stride when he was served a strange-tasting draenei dish of hard cheese and an odd, strangely twisted bread roll they referred to Rylak Claws for breakfast.

As he finished suiting up and stood to wait for Emily by the door, he felt rewarded for his efficiency when he heard her snarl with frustration. He looked over to see her halfway into her armor and kneeling down to retrieve one of her wristguards off the floor. She shot him an irritated look as she stood back up, which brought him a snort of amusement.

On the other side of the room, Captain Montoy rolled up an official-looking scroll and stood up from behind his desk. He gave an impressed nod to Anton as he passed.

"Good hustle, Miller." He said without breaking stride. "Glad to see you took what I said yesterday to heart."

"Thank you, sir." Anton saluted with a small grin.

Emily growled at him as she approached, having finally finished putting her gear on. "Are you playing kiss-up now?"

"Don't know what you mean. I was just waiting for you to finish suiting up." He shrugged, smiling even wider on the inside. She pushed past him with a roll of her eyes and an unimpressed shake of her head, and he fell into step behind her.

He looked up as they left the barracks, noting that the moon was still in the exact same place as it had been before he'd knocked off twelve hours ago. Its pale light still shone down relentlessly, casting the garrison in a soft, cool glow that almost put him at ease as they strode through it. A few new buildings had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere since last he'd looked, illuminated further by bright orange torchlight.

Emily set a furious pace, power walking at a speed that would have earned praise from even the most hardass of drill instructors back in Stormwind and forcing him to almost jog to keep up with her. He did so with a smirk that he was glad she couldn't see, delighting in how he'd managed to get under her prickly skin and get his own back.

The Starhelm elves were deep in conversation as he and Emily approached, although they turned in unison to nod a greeting.

"... that blue robed one. Maladaar, I think he said his name was." Kalandra said softly, her brows furrowed. "He pushed me aside and took a throwing axe meant for me, right across the chest. This was during the last push... We were almost at the boats."

"He did that?" Desarune's eyes opened wide with respect and awe. "I heard he held much importance among these draenei, but still he gave his life for you? I shall have to offer up a prayer for him tomorrow. Such sacrifice deserves at least -"

"He's not dead." Kalandra interrupted him, shaking her head. "He didn't die. I don't think he even broke stride. He just kept running at the orc who threw it and crushed its skull with his hammer."

"What? No way." Anton exclaimed in disbelief. "How? I saw people go down to just one good hit from those savages."

"I don't know, but it happened. I could hardly believe it myself." She shrugged. "It was as though he didn't notice it. He just ripped it right back out and yelled at me to keep running."

"That can't be possible." Emily said skeptically. "He pulled an axe out of his own chest without even noticing?"

"If Kalandra says it, it must be true." Desarune said firmly, though his face still bespoke a look of incredulity. "It is staggering to think, though. I wonder what else he is capable of. Is he still in the garrison?"

"He left not long after we made landfall, through the forest. I saw him speaking to Prophet Velen before he went." Kalandra replied.

"A shame. I would have liked to meet him." Desarune said with a solemn inflection. "I would have liked to thank him for saving your life. I wonder where he had to leave for with such urgency?"

"Maybe he was going to Elodor." Anton offered. Desarune gave him an inquisitive look, so he continued. "Well, it sounds important. I heard Maraad say he was heading there, and apparently the commander is going there too. Assuming she hasn't left already, anyway. Maybe there's a meeting or something there."

"Maraad? The Vindicator, yes? I remember speaking to him once on the other side of the Dark Portal." Kalandra murmured. "Come to think of it, I have not seen Prophet Velen recently either. I wonder if he went there as well."

To that, Anton could only shrug. "I don't know. I just hope it's nothing we have to worry about." A lull in the conversation followed. "You guys can go and clock off if you'd like. You must be pretty tired, right?"

"Actually, I feel quite well." Desarune said with a smile. "The constant moonlight here is... strange, to say the least, but invigorating nonetheless. I feel as though I could stay here for another whole shift."

"But, we'll stick to the schedule." Kalandra added quickly. She looked a lot less on board with that prospect than her brother did. "We appreciate the relief."

"Just... part of the job." Anton said awkwardly.

"Elune be with you."

The elves saluted as they left, and Anton and Emily took up their posts with little more than a glance at each other.

* * *

* * *

The shift progressed as quietly as the previous one had, their only diversion from the monotony being cursory checks of the talbuk-pulled carts brought back and forth from the mine. Anton allowed his mind to wander, passing the idle time by mulling over the situation the Alliance force found itself in.

Again his thoughts were drawn to the strangeness of Shadowmoon Valley; the pale and occasionally lurid colours of the flora, the unrelenting nighttime, the odd alien feel that he just couldn't quite put his finger on which told him he was far from home. The sense of routine and certainty of Stormwind was far preferable - it always gave him a feeling of security, something which he had sorely missed since crossing over the Dark Portal's threshold into Draenor.

Thoughts of home reminded him of how bleak the odds were that he would ever see it again. The garrison was in a terribly weak place by his reasoning. They were cut off from reinforcements and alone against overwhelming numbers, deprived of much of their organized leadership with only hardasses like Montoy and Dawson keeping the forces' morale from completely flagging. There wasn't even a possibility of retreat - No matter where they retreated to, they could not leave Draenor. Not unless Khadgar or Dawson were to hand, anyway.

_Signing up for this expedition has to be the worst mistake I've ever made. We are not supposed to be out here. The pay would never have been worth this._

He shifted uncomfortably, not liking the direction his train of thought was going but simply unable to stop thinking. He found himself almost wishing that Emily would say something; even an antagonistic word would be a welcome distraction at this sad point.

"Do you think we'll ever see Stormwind again?" He blurted out on impulse.

"You asked me this yesterday." She said darkly.

"Well, you didn't answer me yesterday."

She looked at him with a baleful expression for a few moments. He returned it without hesitation - he didn't know if she was considering trying to shut him up or not, but he did know he wasn't afraid of her no matter how tall or wolf-like she was.

She heaved a sigh as she looked away. "I don't know."

"... Aren't you worried?" He pressed.

"Course I'm worried." She snorted. "What exactly can I do about it, though? It's out of my hands."

"So, what, you're just going to sit there and hope this all blows over?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, what's your genius plan, then?" She snapped loudly, almost making him flinch away. "You're not doing much except standing there, yourself."

"Well, that's because..." He stopped as he realized her point. "... Right. There's nothing I can do."

She barked out a sullen laugh. "Now you get it."

It gave him some pause when she simply let the matter drop with that - He'd expected her to push her point the instant he gave her some ground to stand it on. Her humourless voice and wilting expression gave the impression of someone who had already given up, but her bearing spoke differently. She was straight-backed and watchful as she cast her gaze out towards the forest, cutting the image of a determined soldier as well as any he'd seen.

He couldn't make heads nor tails of it.

Abruptly her proud manner broke as she looked straight towards the mine, her ears prickling and her face set into an wary snarl. Clearly she'd seen or heard something - he tensed up as he followed her eyes, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

After a second of vigilance, however, he heard a scream ring out from the mine, and even from this distance he could hear the panic and desperation in it.

_That's not something you tend to hear in a normal day of work._

Without another word between them they both took off at a sprint towards the mine. She peeled ahead of him quickly, her feral body giving her an advantage he couldn't match, but his mind was too busy to begrudge her. He had a job to do now; people were depending on him.

He arrived at the mine entrance to be met with a scene of pandemonium. A horde of round, rock-like creatures were attacking the miners in a frenzy, driving the crew of draenei and human apart as they gnawed and scratched at whatever they could reach. Although they only looked to come up to about knee height, their sheer quantity and frantic movements were clearly overwhelming the few guards. Most of the laborers were fleeing the scene in every direction, but a few bravely stood and tried to beat back the throng. Emily was already belting into the fray, screaming her displeasure with a furious roar that quickly caught the mob's attention.

One of them curled itself into a ball, rolling out to meet her head-on as she rushed towards it. She swung her hammer overhead with precise timing, catching the thing with a blow that would have pulped flesh and broken bones. Neither of those things happened, however; instead, a resounding crack issued and the creature fell out of its curl with a squeal, tumbling over itself and landing on its back at her feet. It was clearly dazed, but still alive. For a moment Emily looked taken aback that it had survived, but she quickly raised her hammer up again. This time her strike had the desired effect, swiftly ending the creature's life as its exposed belly was turned into little more than a mess of gore.

_Right. Their stomach's weak, their back isn't._

Anton caught up with her as she raised her bloody hammer out in front, bellowing her challenge to the rest of the horde. For a moment he felt intimidated - partly by her, but moreso by the chittering pack of rock-beasts now bearing down on them.

He didn't waste time wondering what the things were or where they'd come from - all that was relevant was how to kill them. He planned his strikes carefully as the first one approached him, intending to stab it in its gut and put it down quickly. To his surprise it reacted faster than he could swing - it half-curled with such a speed that his hit connected with its armored, shell-like back and rebounded with a worthless clang.

From there the situation only dissolved further, and he was forced to forget his plans and give ground as several of the clamouring creatures approached him. He only managed to keep them at bay with rapid stabs and swings that forced them to show him their back and prevented them from pushing forward. Next to him, Emily was having just as little luck; though she pushed the milling group before her back with each horizontal swing, she never managed to score any more clean hits. Each time the creatures would be sent staggering by her vicious blows, but replaced by their brethren before she could follow up with a decisive strike.

The creature on Anton's right took a sudden leap at him, its wide maw slavering and its eyes glinting with animalistic malice. He instinctively raised his shield to meet it and it rebounded heavily, falling onto the grass with a heavy thump. He recognized an opportunity at last as he caught a glance of the creature's face - it was visibly dazed, drool leaking from its mouth as it reeled backwards.

He lashed out with a quick downward stab before it could recover, and was rewarded with a rattling squeal as his sword bit deep into its gut. Its stubby limbs flailed for a moment, but finally stopped and fell lifelessly to its side as he drew his blade back.

_Now I just have to do that again._

He didn't bother swinging his sword as the next one frenetically approached him, knowing now that it was simply too quick for that to work. Instead he brought his shield in close and barged forward with his shoulder, delivering a brutal bash with his arm as the shield made contact. The creature had already huddled down to cover itself, but that was what he had expected - The heavy blunt blow from the shield did what his sword could not, stunning the creature enough that it toppled backward and dropped its guard. With its weak underside exposed he quickly slashed down into it, grinning as his effort turned into another kill. He could practically feel the tide turning in their favour.

His relief was short lived. Several more chittering monsters moved in to fill the ranks surrounding him, replacing their kin as quickly as he'd slain them.

_Light above, I've got no hope against them all alone._

"Back up!" He called to Emily, hoping she could hear him over the din of the fight. He needed her to stand with him if he was to have a chance. "We've gotta kill them one at a time!"

She made no outward sign that she'd heard him, but nonetheless backed away from the creatures just as he had, swinging her hammer only to keep them from advancing too fast. She tore her eyes from the mob to spare him a glance as she reached his side; her eyes looked more like a feral animal's than a normal person's.

"Use your shield! Hit them with your shield!" He yelled, tapping the front of his own in explanation and hoping that she understood.

Once again, one of the frenzied creatures leapt out of the pack at him. Just as before he brought his shield up, and just as before the thing slammed full force into it and tumbled to the ground. He made quick work of it with a finishing stab to its belly and returned to a ready stance for the next one.

Emily caught on quickly, swinging her shield out into the pack heavily and following up with precise hammer strikes. She settled into a battle stance was equal parts animalistic savagery and single-minded discipline; the strange duality of it struck him as he watched her topple several rock-beasts with a heavy-handed arc of her shield, then end one of them with a well-aimed smash before guarding herself again.

Despite himself, he was fascinated by it. It was like watching an animal that had only half learned how to act like a human.

One of the keening creatures caught his attention when it lunged at him, and he only barely raised his shield in time to block it. He cursed himself for becoming distracted, and resolved to keep his focus to the fight.

They stayed at each other's side as they grew the body count, keeping themselves from being overwhelmed with supporting strikes. He noted with some frustration that she was now killing faster than he was, leveraging her beastlike strength handily where he had to rely on finesse and harrying swings of his sword to keep himself from being overrun.

Still, they fought on, slaying the creatures rhythmically, methodically, one by one. In the face of the death-machine they made together, the beasts slowly seemed to realize that they were losing their momentum. Several of the mine guards had cottoned onto their tactic as well, picking off the horde one by one with shield and sword strikes in tandem. The situation was resolving in the Alliance's favour.

Soon the dozens before them had been whittled down to the point where there were more corpses than live ones, and the creatures' frenzy turned instead into a panic. Many of them broke and fled entirely, rolling away into the forest or the mine, or even simply clawing into the dirt and burrowing away. As the last one fled, the sounds of fighting finally gave way to sighs of relief and cheers of victory from the miners and soldiers.

Anton doubled over to catch his breath, exhausted from the exertion of the battle. He had no idea how long he'd been fighting for. His armor had protected him from the creatures well enough, but still he was sore and winded.

"What in hell's name were those things?" He asked with a wheeze, struggling to breathe clearly through the stink of blood and sweat that the grassy field had become.

"I've no idea. If I ever see them again, though, Im going to kill them all." Emily snarled, still agitatedly scanning the forest around them as though she expected them to come right back. The rapid motions of her breathing and the rabid snarl on her face made him wonder for a moment how in control of herself she was. For safety's sake he took a step away.

"I think they were goren." A draenei approached them, clad in the blue and gold of an Alliance soldier and looking almost as beat up as Anton was. "I've heard of them before, when I used to live in Karabor."

"What are they, exactly? They looked like they were half made of rock. Are they animals?" Anton asked.

"I don't know." The draenei glowered. "I never saw one before the orcs forced us to flee the planet, and afterwards, it didn't matter anymore."

Anton struggled for a moment to understand what he was talking about, before his tired brain made the necessary connection. "Right. You're from Azeroth."

"Where'd they come from?" Emily demanded. Anton noted with some relief that her grip on her weapon had slackened somewhat; she must have been starting to come down from the adrenaline rush of the fight. "Do you know what happened? Who's in charge here?"

"Foreman Leens is around here somewhere, if the goren have not already gotten him." The draenei said grimly.

His statement was a brutal reminder to Anton they were not the first to engage the things. The unprepared miners had been the ones to take the brunt of the first wave. A quick survey of the people around him did not tell him much - The people he could see looked injured to various degrees, and he didn't know if he could see any human corpses in between the mass of dead goren.

Emily spoke up before he could think of anything to say. "Can you go and let someone know what's happened here? Get them to send us a healer."

"A good idea. Yes, I'll go." The draenei nodded and took off toward the garrison.

Emily finally seemed to relax at that, heaving a sigh and sitting down in the bloody dirt and grass. She shucked her shield off and let her hammer fall besides her as she leaned back on her arms and closed her eyes, her battered armor clinking softly. She looked a lot smaller, somehow, now that the fight was done.

"You did pretty good." Anton said without thinking, mortifying himself as he realized his mouth had run ahead before his brain could catch up. He'd already forgotten he was supposed to be being bitter with her.

_Why did I say that? Why did I even think that?_

She grunted in affirmation, either indifferent or ignorant to his internal strife. "My wrist hurts. Those shell things on their backs were harder than I thought."

"Maybe we can get the healer to look at it when he gets here."

"Not if anyone else needs it more." She shook her head.

A moment of silence fell between them as they recovered from the fight. Anton's breath finally started to slow as the adrenaline left his system. In the tired, after-battle haze, it was surprisingly easy for him to ignore the macabre carnage he'd helped to create and just relax.

_Not very civilized, catching a rest right in front of the things you killed, but I hardly even care. Maybe I'm getting used to it already._

Even before enlisting for the service that would lead him to Draenor, he was no stranger to bloodshed. He had grown up on a cattle farm, where death was a necessity, and served in the Stormwind Guard for the better part of a decade. Still, he had never spilled so much blood at one time, human or animal, and now he had been part of pitched battles against both.

"You did better than I thought you would, too." She piped up, breaking his moment of introspection. She was giving him an appraising look, as though she was only just meeting him for the first time. "That was pretty clever, bashing them with your shield first."

"Oh, well, glad I could meet your high standards." He said sarcastically.

"What? It was a compliment." She said, her scratchy voice sounding both indignant and embarrassed. "I just hadn't seen you fight before. I didn't know how well you'd go."

"Sounded for a moment like you thought I was an idiot." He quirked an eyebrow suspiciously. "I made it through all the fighting at the Dark Portal, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah. So did I."

"So neither of us are idiots then."

"Right." Her brows furrowed slightly. "What's your point?"

"Well, I -" He struggled for a moment to articulate what was clear in his head. "It's like you keep thinking I'm weak because you're bigger than me. I don't like it, alright?"

"I don't think you're..." She started vigorously, but broke off with a weary sigh and looked away. "You're right. Sorry."

_Now is she just saying that because she wants to drop it, or does she actually mean it?_

For a moment he thought about pushing the issue, but he couldn't tell why she had capitulated. Her scratchy voice contained neither condescension nor contrition, and he couldn't see either of those things on her face either.

_Although you can't hardly blame me. It's more of a wolf's face than a woman's._

He blew it off with a shrug. He really had no idea what she was up to. Probably better to just leave it alone.

"Miller!" Anton looked up with a start as he heard Captain Montoy calling his name. He was approaching at a steady jog, geared up and ready for a fight with several footmen and draenei priests forming a retinue behind him. "What in hell happened here?"

"It was these rock things, sir!" Anton said with a hurried salute. "Goren, I think they were. They were attacking the miners."

"Yes, I was told that. I can... I can see that." Montoy visibly had to catch himself as he caught sight of the sheer amount of goren corpses around the mine entrance. "Are they all dead? Is that all of them?"

"A bunch of them got away, unfortunately." Emily answered before Anton could. "No-one gave chase."

"Casualties?"

"None that I saw."

"Really?" Montoy's brows flew up. He turned to Anton for confirmation.

"I didn't see any either." Anton shrugged with a grin. "You sound a little surprised, Captain."

"And you sound a little too pleased with yourself for a man who abandoned his post, Miller. You as well, Brown." Anton suddenly felt a lot smaller beneath Montoy's reprimanding glare as he realized that in their haste, that was exactly what the pair of them had done. The gate had been undefended this whole time. "Now. There's a lot of bodies there. You're telling me that not one of them is ours?"

"No, sir. At least, not as far as I know, sir."

"I want a body count. Brown, you go. Now. Get me one." The Captain commanded, and Emily hauled herself to her feet and slunk away without another word. "The rest of you, get this mess sorted out. Get rid of those corpses. Atoh, take your anchorites and see to the mine crew, please."

The group behind Montoy saluted as they began to set about their work. Anton made to join them, but heard Montoy calling him back before he could slip away.

"Miller, you stay. I want to know what the hell happened here."

Anton braced himself internally. With everyone else gone, the Captain's displeasure would be his alone to bear.

"Well, there were... these things." He gestured hesitantly towards the goren corpses. "They came out of nowhere and started to attack the miners."

"Alright, let's start with the obvious. Why were you here to see that, instead of at your post?" Montoy said icily.

"I wasn't. We weren't, that is. We were at the gate, and we heard screaming. It sounded like they were under attack, so we came here as fast as we could." Anton said, trying hard not to sound too much like he was making excuses.

Montoy only glared sternly at him in response, drawing it out until Anton felt like squirming out from under his gaze.

"I'll expect a full, written account after your shift. I want to know everything, down to the last detail. But first, the creatures. Tell me about them."

"One of the draenei said they were called goren, sir. I think they were animals." Anton said.

"What makes you think that?"

"Well - They were dumb as dirt, sir. They just kept coming, even after we figured out how to kill them. And, they didn't have any weapons or armor or anything." He explained.

"And why did they attack the miners?" Montoy asked, his expression now bearing a look of concentration instead of frosty anger.

_Maybe he's going to forget about it and just let us off the hook?_

"No idea, sir. They were already attacking them when we got here."

The Captain nodded thoughtfully. "Very well, Miller. Now, as to the matter..." The crunch of heavy footfalls approaching them interrupted him. Emily was back already, and for once Anton was glad for the interruption. "Ah, Brown. That was quick. Well - Report?"

"No casualties, Captain." She said, sounding oddly indifferent.

Montoy looked impressed by the news. "Good. Injuries?"

"Don't know, sir. The healers are dealing with them now."

"Alright." Montoy nodded before abruptly returning to his previous tack. "Now, the pair of you left your post completely abandoned for the better part of an hour. No matter how good your reason was, that's a serious breach of protocol. I would have thought that at least one of you would have had the sense to stay back and send for help. Having said that..."

Anton felt his hopes rising again - Montoy must have noticed, as he promptly folded his arms and raised his stern voice as if he just wanted to quell them again. "Having said that, you did do well here. I'm going to reassign you to patrol posts here, since you handled yourselves well against those things. I'm entrusting the safety of the mine operation to you - I'll expect better performance from you with regards to maintaining your post."

"Yes, sir!" Anton crisply saluted, inwardly glad that the Captain had seemingly decided not to punish them. Emily saluted as well from next to him, still looking stony.

"And the pair of you are on lavatory duty for the next week. If it happens again, it'll be a month." He added.

"... Yes, sir."

"Good. Back to your posts."


	4. Blood and Sweat

"Hey. Miller." A quiet but direct voice tore him out of his sleep. "Wake up."

"What? What's going on?" He mumbled. It didn't sound like the sergeant. "Is my shift on already?"

"No, idiot. Get up, I got you something."

"What...?" He heaved himself up and looked around blearily.

Emily was standing beside his bunk, proffering a bottle towards him. Hesitantly he reached out and took it, reflexively taking care to avoid her sharp claws even in his half-awake state.

"What's this? What's this for?"

"Sugar Pear Cider, the guy called it." She said quietly. "Don't make too much noise, there's still people sleeping."

He held onto the bottle confusedly for a second, her voice slipping right past him as he tried to grasp onto what he was holding in his hands. What time was it? Why was she waking him up now, if not for his shift?

_Cider. Drink. She got me some drink...?_

"Wait - Where'd you get this?" He whispered sharply as he finally made the connection. Immediately he brought the alcohol low and looked around, hoping that no-one else had noticed it. If nobody else saw, he wouldn't have to share.

"Bought it." She said simply. "One of those draenei had a couple of them."

"And -" He started disbelievingly, shaking his head to clear it as he tried to make sense of the situation. "And you're giving it to me?"

"Yeah. Look, it's, just... I realized I was looking down on you a bit these last couple of days, and I'm sorry. I meant what I said yesterday, alright? I wasn't trying to insult you. I thought you did pretty well. And, there. I got you something to prove it." She said in a slight rush, her face kept carefully neutral. "Anyway, I wouldn't go back to sleep. Sergeant's probably going to get you up in a few minutes."

She walked away abruptly with a crisp nod, leaving him only a little less confused, but at least with a bottle of booze in his hand. He wasn't very fond of cider in particular, but in dry times a man could get to the point where he'd take anything.

"Well... Thanks, I guess." He muttered to himself as he shifted out of his bunk, still struggling to make sense of the brief talk. He furtively opened up his footlocker and squirreled the gift away, taking one last look before shutting the lid as he wondered exactly what she had meant by it.

_Well, no matter what happens today, I've at least got something to look forward to after my shift._

* * *

* * *

"... Lavatory duty, though. I can't believe it. We were out there saving lives." Anton complained bitterly as he walked down the tunnel alongside Emily.

The boredom of the shift was starting to set in. They had started their patrol of the mine several hours ago, but Anton hadn't easily managed to shake off the feeling that the creatures from yesterday might come back. Still, the paranoid vigilance eventually gave way to complacence as it always did. It just wasn't possible to stay on full alert for a dozen hours straight - but it was at least feasible to pretend you were whenever someone higher ranked than you came past.

The mine had been dug out far more than he'd anticipated in the short time since it had been established. It dove down into the earth in a half-spiral, deep enough and far enough that the light from the entrance was left long behind at the end. It necessitated that he keep his shield strapped to his back and carry a lantern instead, a compromise which he was not happy about. He had no idea how he was supposed to hold his shield and a lamp at the same time if the goren showed up again, and it would hardly provide enough lighting if he hooked it onto his belt. On top of that, the slope of the tunnel managed to be just steep enough that it was awkward to go down, and tiring to come back up.

On the other hand though, it wasn't all bad. At least Emily was slowing her pace to let him keep up now. He wondered still about the gift she had given him, but found the topic too awkward to broach quite yet. Her antagonistic air hadn't disappeared entirely, but it had died down somewhat. She seemed to be a bit more conversational, if nothing else.

"We did abandon our post." She pointed out.

"Yeah, to save lives. Think of how badly that whole fight would have gone without us." Anton argued.

"Maybe." She shrugged noncommittally. "They might have been fine."

"Yeah, right. They were getting routed." He grumbled querulously. "The Captain even said we did well, right before he punished us anyway. I mean, come on, right?"

"Gotta maintain some discipline, I guess." She said with an indifferent shrug. "I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"Well, aren't you pissed at all? Not even a little bit?"

"Not really. It's done, it can't be changed now." She shook her head.

"What?" He managed to ask, unable to think of anything else. He'd never heard of a soldier who'd pass up an opportunity to gripe about their superior. "What the hell kind of mindset is that?"

"Like I said. What exactly do you want me to say? I can't change it." She shrugged again.

"Well, I don't know. Complain about it, I guess. Montoy's an asshole. Start with saying that, and we'll go from there."

"Montoy's an arsehole." She said without any inflection.

"Okay. Good. Do you feel any better?"

She looked slightly amused. "I wasn't the one complaining about him, if I remember right."

Anton opened his mouth to say something, and promptly realized he'd gotten himself completely lost. In hindsight, he actually had no idea what he was trying to achieve. Was he just trying to get her to say something he could relate to? With a resigned sigh, he decided once again it would be easier to just let it go.

That seemed to be how most of his dealings with her went.

He still had no idea what to make of her. The pair of them had slaved away on detailed reports of the goren incident for hours in an effort to placate Captain Montoy. He'd grumbled under his breath the whole way at the unfairness of it, but she'd just set her jaw and made not a peep.

It wasn't normal. Most of the time, she tried to act like she had no emotions or something, but he'd seen firsthand that she could muster up a frightening fury when she wanted to. And then there was the matter of that bottle she'd given him.

_And I'm going to figure out just what her problem is._

As they neared the last bend and the end of the mine came into view, the tunnel finally began to flatten out. The torchlight flickering at the end of the cavern illuminated a group of miners busily extending the tunnel, heaving and grunting as their pickaxes bit a little deeper into the earth. A few of them turned and gave a cursory nod as the pair approached, but didn't stray from their work.

Anton decided to give the area a quick once-over. The tunnel was not thin, and the few torches left plenty of shadows to be checked. Each time he brought the lantern to bear, however, he was met with only more nothing. Only once did he see anything vaguely interesting - a small glint of true iron in the tunnel wall that had not yet been excavated.

_Oh, well. Still pays to at least give half an effort every once in a while._

"Nothing, as always." He said. "I don't even know what I'm looking here for, anyway. There's only one entrance for those goren to get in."

"Better safe than sorry, I suppose." She answered. "Come on, then. Let's check back up top."

He grumbled under his breath as they left the firelight around the miners behind and set off back towards the mine entrance, but much more slowly than they had come down. It was important that they pace themselves so that they would not be tired out in the event of an emergency, but the tiring crawl back upward still grated on him - particularly so whenever he saw how slowly she was moving to let him keep up. She did it without being asked and had made no comments on it so far, but he could swear he felt her judging him as he struggled to keep up. He found himself wishing that he was back at the gate post again.

"You sure you don't want a piggyback ride or anything?" Emily quipped with one eyebrow raised as he started to lag behind again.

"Alright, alright, you don't need to rub it in." He groused. He'd known she wouldn't be able to go the whole shift without saying something. Nobody could resist that long, not even someone as stoic as her. "Of course it's easy for you. You're like, seven feet tall, your legs are massive."

She cast him a sidelong glare at that, and he realized what he'd just said.

"Er - That is - I mean, I didn't mean it like -"

"Don't worry, I get it." She said, waving the matter off as she looked away. He tried not to show his relief.

"This is probably actually worse than lavatory duty, now I think on it." He went on. "I hope Montoy's happy, sitting in the barracks all day."

"Oh, don't fret too much." She admonished. "Someone's got to do it. Look, we're almost at the top, anyway."

"Yeah, and then we have to do it all again another hundred times or so before we knock off." He sighed. "Let's just take five minutes before we go back down. What do you think?"

"Sounds fine to me."

They crested the last slope and came out into the moonlight of Shadowmoon Valley, which allowed Anton to finally let the lantern rest at his side. He leaned against one of the wooden beams that made up the entrance to the mine to catch his breath, while Emily surveyed the mine site.

"Those guys working the carts are probably laughing at you, you know, when you're all doubled over like that." She said idly. He looked up to see her watching a team slowly load up a cart with stone. "I wonder how many times they come up and down the mine a day."

Anton grunted dismissively. "They can go screw themselves. They don't do it in full plate."

"True enough." She chuckled. "I notice they've cleaned up the mess from yesterday pretty well. I can hardly see any blood left around here."

"It was probably a safety risk or something. I wonder what they did with all the bodies, though?"

"Probably tossed them all in a hole and buried them." She said, unconcerned by the prospect. "That's what we used to do with the kobolds and gnolls back home whenever they got uppity."

"Mass kobold burials?" Unlike her, Anton was quite disturbed by the prospect. "Now that's an unpleasant thought."

"Well, I've never lost any sleep over it. Rat bastards deserved it." She laughed throatily. "Every other month, those little pukes would be back at it, harassing the miners. Only reason no-one died is because we were there to stop them."

"Huh. Sounds a bit like us here, doesn't it?" He remarked. "I wonder if those goren things are like kobolds here."

"Maybe."

An easy silence descended as they watched the workers hurry about, moving bundles of ores and stones around and keeping the draenei-provided talbuk in order. He surreptitiously checked the faces of those who came past bringing carts in and out of the mine, silently daring them to laugh at him as he rested, but most of them just refused to meet his eyes.

Emily was being a lot more friendly and talkative than she usually was. She was less unbearable than he'd previously thought when she was actually talking with someone instead of talking down to them. That small conversation marked the first time she'd actually offered some information up without being asked.

"So, you were a guard before you came here as well?" He asked, hoping to capitalize on her seemingly good mood.

"Mhmm. I... used to be a part of the City Guard before I was reassigned to Emberstone Mine instead." She said with slight trepidation. It seemed she still wasn't too enthusiastic about sharing. "Pay was worse there, but everything else was better. And it was easier killing kobolds than keeping order in the city."

"Not a fan of the city life, huh?" He smirked.

"Nah, not me. Too many people... Always made me nervous." She shook her head. "You were in the Stormwind Guard though, right? How long?"

"Oh, you know. Couple of years. I stopped keeping count." He said with a shrug. "I joined up pretty much as soon as I moved into Stormwind. I used to live on a cattle farm out in Elwynn, but the farm life bored me to tears."

"Almost the opposite of me, then." She smiled slightly.

"Yep. I still write my family every now and again, though. And I send half my pay back to my parents. Didn't feel right to not to do my bit, even after I left, you know?"

"Oh. That's... good of you." She said, her voice suddenly turning awkward.

She met his eyes uncomfortably, to which he raised one eyebrow. She looked away nervously as if she wasn't sure how much she wanted to say, but after a moment's hesitation she continued.

"Well, I... I haven't talked to my family in a long time. I don't even know if they're alive, to be honest..."

"What?" Anton asked, somewhat shocked at the revelation. Surely she wasn't that cold that she just stopped keeping in contact with them. "Why not?"

"Well, you know why we fled Gilneas, don't you?"

"Not really." He said honestly. "You all, uh... turned into wolf-people, right? And the Forsaken attacked, and the night elves helped you. That's about all I know. Did you... lose them then?"

"No. People were dying even before the Forsaken came. The worgen curse..." She said grimly. "Families got separated when people turned, or worse. I think we lost more lives to the curse than to the Forsaken. And as many again... got lost. Never came back, or were too far gone to be saved when we brought them in."

"Too far gone?"

"Gone feral. Insane. They had a potion, but it didn't work if you'd been... like that for too long. I was in the city when I got bitten, but... Well, I was just lucky I wandered close enough for their traps to catch me before I was too far gone myself."

"That's... I don't..." He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. What she was saying sounded almost as bad as what he'd heard of the Plague of Undeath. "So... Your family... They could be anywhere by now...?"

"If they're even alive. I wanted to believe they were, but..." She shrugged, her cold front starting to come back up. "I looked as much as I could when the night elves took us in, but I couldn't find anything. The earthquakes or the Forsaken might have taken them. Who knows, maybe I even killed them and didn't recognize them."

"That's... That's awful. I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

"It doesn't matter." She shook her head determinedly and shifted her hammer and shield in her arms. "It doesn't matter, it can't be helped now. Lots of people have gone through worse. Come on, let's start heading back down..."

And so they went as their shift dragged on, up and down the tunnel on their patrol. Neither of them talked much. Anton had a lot to process; it had been an illuminating conversation, if nothing else, and it helped to distract him from the exertion of the patrol route.

He himself hadn't been overly affected by the Cataclysm. He'd been out of Stormwind visiting his family on the day Deathwing attacked, and although it had greatly affected the city and its people, he himself had been largely insulated from it in the Old Town Barracks. He had never given her past any thought as a result, taking it for granted that it would be as boring as his, but realized now that it had been anything but.

_I suppose serious stuff like that goes hand in hand with being turned into a giant wolf... thing._

He went through the motions by rote, swinging his lantern towards the darkened corners of the mine and watching for movement. Most of his thought was devoted to digesting the information he'd been given, and she seemed perfectly happy to keep her silence as well. The other sounds of the mine seemed to fade away until he could no longer hear them, the squealing wheels of the minecarts and the clinking of tools against rock unable to reach him in his focus.

"Hey, stop." Emily snarled suddenly, immediately recalling his attention as she held her hammer hand out in front of him. Her ears began to flick madly back and forth in a state of high alert as she rapidly looked this way and that. "You hear that noise?"

Just ahead of them up the slope a miner overheard her and stopped in his work, looking back at them nervously. Anton was just as tense, but held himself as still as he could and strained his ears.

He heard nothing except the echoing sounds of work from back down the tunnel. Still, he didn't believe she was playing a trick on him. Her hearing was far better than his and she'd only used it constructively so far.

"I don't hear anything." He said quietly. "What is it?"

"Sounds like scratching. Really loud." She whispered hoarsely. "Can't tell where it's coming from. You check back behind us, I'm going to have a quick look ahead."

She took off without another word, waving her hand in dismissal of his loudly whispered entreaties to come back. She took on a predatory stance as she broke away, stalking up the tunnel and leaving him behind.

He grumbled to himself for a moment, until he realized he could hear the scratching too, now. Just like she said, it seemed to be coming from both behind him and in front of him. He clipped his lantern to his belt and whipped his shield off his back, wary of whatever was coming.

The abrupt sound of smashing rock and a pained shout came from behind him, finally giving him a clue as to where to look. He turned, and saw a monstrous goren had somehow burst out of the tunnel wall below him, its size great enough that it was recognizable even through the cloud of dust partially obscuring it. Nearby a miner was flat on his back amongst rubble sent forth by the thing's entrance, trailing blood from several fresh cuts.

_Light help us, they can come out of the walls._

The overlarge goren gave an excited growl as it saw the wounded miner, heaving and bouncing its rocky body as it rushed for him. All fear fled Anton as he saw the monster going for the miner - one of his charges.

"Hey! Up here!" He shouted at it as loudly as he could, banging his sword against his shield to make even more noise.

It worked. The creature looked up at the new threat and its growl abruptly became one of low-pitched warning as it huddled down slightly. Anton was undeterred, approaching it steadily despite the clear threat.

"Pick on someone your own size, won't you? You big sack of shit!" He taunted. "Come on, up here!"

It growled even louder. Anton didn't think the rock-animal actually recognized his insults, but it did clearly recognize that he was not there to offer it a treat. It hunkered down even lower, still looking like it would come up to his shoulder height. He kept his steady approach up, slightly intimidated by its size but unwilling to back down.

The goren didn't wait for him to reach it, abruptly curling into a complete ball and somehow launching itself to roll uphill towards him. Anton barely had time to be shocked by the impossible tactic, bringing his shield in close on sheer instinct as it closed the distance and collided with him.

It crashed into him with the force of a warhammer, slamming against his shield so viciously that his defence almost crumpled immediately. He managed keep himself from toppling over completely, barely holding his ground against the thing as it forced his shield up against his body. He fell quickly into an instinctual panic as he realized that he was in serious danger, that he was about to be overwhelmed.

To his surprise and relief, it didn't happen. The goren's momentum started to wane as it pushed up the slope against him, its completely spherical shape doing it no favours as gravity began to take its toll. The beast rolled a short distance back down the tunnel before it seemed to realize that it wasn't going to stop and uncurled itself. It fell head over feet backwards until it landed on its stomach near the miner it had rolled away from in the first place, keening angrily up at Anton as it heaved itself to its feet.

Adrenaline coursed through him as he looked down on the creature now glaring up at him, his mind abruptly recognizing that it was no longer right on top of him and he was not about to die. His heart pumped ever harder as he readied his shield again and started down towards the creature.

This time it approached him more carefully, half-curled but hesitant to roll up completely again. It growled and grumbled threateningly as the two closed against each other on more even terms.

He lashed out with a stab as he reached melee distance, but the goren huddled down even faster. His sword was offered no target but solid shell. The creature stood back up as his arm rebounded and swiped at him with one ungainly claw, but was repelled by his shield.

They traded blows over and over in almost exactly the same manner, Anton probing for weak points with quick slashes and covering himself with his shield before it could retaliate. He wasn’t prepared to chance trying to bash it with his shield, despite how well that had worked on the smaller ones – this one seemed hefty enough that it wouldn’t be so susceptible to the tactic.

The goren was hesitant as well, seemingly unwilling to completely launch itself at him again after its previous failure, but it wasn't showing that it knew any other strategy but to crudely claw and punch him. It wasn't even trying to move in close and force him to give ground, just to swipe at him every time it had an opening. It was a stupid form of combat, but it would still work if the creature proved more suited for an endurance fight than he was.

_Where the hell is Emily? We could wear it down together if she was here to help me!_

Before he could take another swing, he heard a loud swish of air from behind him. The creature toppled backwards with a surprised squeal as something collided heavily with its soft stomach, and he saw a hammer clatter to the ground between him and it.

It fell on its back just a few paces ahead of him. He wasn't sure what exactly had stunned it so, but he recognized an opportunity when he saw one. He hurried down towards it with his sword raised.

A predatory howl from behind him demanded his attention not halfway there, and he turned just in time to see an indistinct blur of grey, blue and brown sail past him. He realized it was Emily, leaping down to finish the job.

She smashed into the goren bodily, driving her armored shoulder into its exposed belly. It flailed its legs and arms, but didn't manage to make a sound - her landing had driven the wind from it. She didn't give it a chance to recover, bringing herself down onto it in a bloodthirsty frenzy. Without her hammer she simply used her claws instead, shredding its stomach into gore as she ripped and slashed with wild abandon.

Anton started to relax slightly, recognizing that the battle was won as the creature's struggles slowed and stopped. Emily, however, didn't let up.

With one bloody hand she forced its head up as she reared her own back. With a motion faster than he could see she brought her jaws down into its stubby neck, bringing up a spray of blood as she bit down into it like a crocolisk.

He looked on in shock as she seemed to give herself over to the actions of a wild wolf, whipping her head back and forth as she tried to pull its throat out away from the rest of it. Drops of copper-scented blood were scattered in every direction, flecking the scene as she made an even greater mess of its already savaged body.

The sight of it turned his stomach, even through the high of adrenaline.

"Emily, stop!" He gasped. "Stop, what the hell are you doing!? It's dead!"

She froze for a second before slowly disengaging her jaws, and turned to face him. He reeled backward, a wave of fear and nausea crashing over him at the sight of her blood-covered face. She looked like something out of a nightmare, a fearful parody of a person - the fur across her head and hands matted down with blood, her gore-stained, fanged maw was on full display, her gaze upon him was that of a vicious predator.

"I - I was just making sure." She said firmly, her slowly softening eyes and relatively normal voice reminding him that she was in fact a woman, and not a monster. He only gaped in fear, his brain unable to reconcile the two as well as he needed to make a response. "Don't - Don't look at me like that. Stop that."

"Y-you... You tore its throat out! Light above, look at it!" He finally managed, pointing weakly at the ruined corpse beneath her. "That - That's just -"

"I was just trying to help. I just - I just killed it. I didn't mean..." Emily stammered as she rose gingerly off of it, slowly and carefully as though trying to avoid startling an animal.

She licked her lips once - perhaps in nerves. As the blood hit her tongue she seemed to completely deflate, her ears folding down slightly as a look of guilty realization crossed her face. "Alright, maybe I - I might have gone a bit too far..."

"A bit!?" He yelled. "Look at it!"

"I saw it!" She snapped defensively, prickling as though just to spite his raised voice. "I just - I killed it, that's what I did. I used what I had. I made sure it was dead. I killed it."

He wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him, or herself. He turned away, struggling to control himself as his stomach heaved. He'd seen men killed in battle, and he'd seen cattle being slaughtered. Before today though, he'd only seen the aftermath of a wolf attack once, when one had snuck in and killed one of the farm's livestock. Emily’s work managed to be messier by far than even that.

_I wasn't ready to see one happen right in front of me. I was wrong, I'm not getting used to this at all._

He forced his breathing under control, pinching the bridge of his nose as though it might block out the gory sight and the metallic tang of the scene both at once. Once he was sure he wasn't going to puke he looked back to her.

"Alright. Are - Are you done? You're not... going to do that again, are you?"

"No." She said quietly, with a soft shake of her head. She was standing stock still, her eyes cast down guiltily.

"Okay. Let's just - Let's get that thing out of here."

Anton moved to pick the dead goren up by its arms, unwilling to look up at its ruined stomach the whole way. He was able to haul it easily with Emily bringing up the rear, thankful for the small mercy that where he gripped was relatively free of blood.

As the pair broached the cusp of the mine they saw a small crowd of mine workers milling around nervously. A few of them called out when they saw the goren corpse, asking if the coast was clear. Among them, Anton recognized the man that had been there when Emily had first heard the creature's scratching.

_I wonder if it was the battle that sent him running up here, or the kill._

As he looked at the gathered miners, he realized there had been several of them further down the tunnel who would not have been able to run up here to safety.

"Hey, can you get this thing out of the way?" He said to Emily, trying not to look too much at her blood-matted visage. "I'm going to go get the rest of the miners out and make sure everyone's alright. And, uh... You should probably wash your face off a bit."

He hurried away without waiting for an answer. She was still covered in gore that she'd ripped out with her teeth. The sooner he could leave that sight behind, the better.

* * *

* * *

Anton sat on a crate near the mine entrance, watching tersely as the foreman conducted a headcount of his subordinates. He hoped that they were all accounted for. There had been no trouble in the mine as he'd escorted the remaining miners out, and if there was no-one missing that he'd have to search for, it might just stay that way for the rest of the shift. He felt himself tensing up a bit more with each name the foreman read off his scroll.

"Bradbury?"

"Right here."

"Brooks?"

"Here, sir."

And so it went, on and on through a dozen or more names. He listened intently as the foreman listed each one, as much to distract himself as anything else. He was finding the image of Emily struggling to pull the goren's throat out harder to get rid of than he'd like.

He heard the steady sound of footsteps coming near and looked up to see Emily approaching, giving him a curt nod in greeting. He returned the gesture, noting with silent thanks that she had mostly washed herself clean. Though there were still some flecks of red on her armor, the brown fur on her face and hands was matted only with water instead of vital fluid.

Neither of them said anything to each other.

"... Reed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Stafford?"

"Yep."

Emily took up an awkward standing position next to him, waiting just as he was to see if there was someone they'd have to locate or if they could return to their route.

"I hope everyone's alright." She muttered glumly. "I left my hammer and shield down in the mine."

"Yeah, I hope so too." Anton said shortly.

She looked at him guiltily again, but kept her silence.

Anton found himself conflicted about her. She looked truly contrite for probably the first time he'd ever really seen, but she had still sank her fangs - fangs, not teeth - into a creature's throat just a short time before. He wanted her to explain what the hell she'd been thinking, but at the same time, it was the last thing he ever wanted to hear.

"... And Welberry?"

"Here."

"Alright, that's everyone, then." The foreman finally finished his list, and Anton breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright then, lads, back to work! No dawdling, now, we've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

With a clap of his hands the foreman dismissed them, and the small crowd before him dissipated as they returned to their tasks. The sounds of conversation and hard labor slowly began to fill up the site once again.

"Well, thank the Light for that." Emily said, smiling slightly.

"Amen." Anton replied as he stood up. "Let's get back to it, then."

"Right." Emily fell into step beside him. She sucked in a deep breath, as though steeling herself. "Listen... About that thing just before..."

Anton tensed up slightly as well. He still wasn't sure he wanted to hear this, but he didn't object as she went on.

"I didn't... I didn't want you to see that. I don't like for anyone to see that. I don't like losing control like that, I don't usually... let that happen." She said. Her voice was oddly nervous for her, but her gaze was as bold as ever, her eyes set squarely ahead. It brought to mind someone trying to confess something without discarding their dignity.

"What the hell was it, exactly? What were you doing?" He asked despite himself. "It's like you were trying to eat it alive. You wouldn't - you wouldn't do that to a person, would you?"

"No! No, never! It's... It's just..." She shook her head, visibly struggling to find words; if he had to guess, words she could use to avoid addressing it too directly. Eventually she gave up, sighing as her face lost its hardness entirely. "Sometimes it's hard to... act normal. Sometimes it's hard to resist. When I get in a fight, and I see a good opportunity... It's so hard to say no, and the wolf just takes over."

"The wolf?" He heard himself ask before he could consider if he really wanted that question answered.

"It's hard to explain... Do you remember how I told you about how some people went feral?" She waited for him to nod an affirmative before continuing. "Well, even now there's still that temptation, just... not as bad, most of the time. Usually it's easy to ignore. Some people hardly feel it at all, they can almost live normal lives. They're lucky. But for me, for a lot of people like me... Soon as something gets your blood up, you go crazy."

Her ears were flat against her skull. She almost looked like she was going to cry - it was a horrible expression to see on her, but she kept talking before he could think of anything to say.

"It gets hard to think. You know how it is when you're in a fight, sometimes - You just act off instinct. When I get like that, it's hard to come back down." She shook her head again slowly, miserably. "I didn't mean to kill it like that. Not that bad. I just wanted to kill it."

Anton digested her words in silence, trying to think of exactly what to say as they kept walking. He had been expecting flimsy excuses or justifications, but had received instead a despairing confession. She sounded much as an old soldier sharing the sorrowful story of his first kill would. Maybe she had once been as disgusted with what she'd done as he was now, but resigned herself to live with it.

_And now I'm actually feeling sorry for her._

Anton looked up at her face, noting it was tense as a man awaiting sentencing. She looked down to meet his gaze, her softly-glowing eyes searching for his judgment. A part of him wondered why she was putting herself in the position that she would have to receive it, wondered why she was even opening up to him so much. At that moment she looked hopelessly lost, enough so that despite her sheer size and fearsome countenance, he would almost describe her as vulnerable.

And he found he had no judgment to give.

"Don't worry about it." He said quietly, but sincerely. "It's alright. Just... Please don't do it again. I'm not going to lie, it was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen."

"You should try actually doing it." She joked bitterly. "No, I know. Don't worry... I won't if I can help it. I'm not proud of it. Like I said, I don't like letting people see me like that."

"Well, if nothing else, I'm glad you had my back." He gave a light laugh, trying to inject some levity into the situation. "I was just starting to wonder where you were before you got there."

"I'll be faster next time." She swore. "After I heard the crashing back behind me, I thought it would be better to get everyone else out before I came back."

"Yeah, probably a good call. Like I say, I'm just glad I got someone looking out for me. Especially someone seven foot tall." He smiled.

"As long as you'll do the same for me. You were handling it pretty well before I got there." She started to smile slightly as well. "It'll be nice to have someone watching my back, for once."

"What do you mean, 'for once'? Didn't you have a partner when you were on patrol?" He asked.

"Yeah, but not since I got bit." She sighed. "Haven't found much work since I moved to Stormwind except bodyguard work. Only people I've been looking out for are cowards and idiots." She scoffed at that. "I wasn't cut out for that line of work. Putting up with them was half the job. Spent most of my time in Stormwind alone, really, so no matter how horrible as this whole expedition might be, it's still been an upgrade as far as I'm concerned.”

"Wow. That's pretty sad."

"Yeah, no joke." She chuffed out a laugh.

They reached the end of the tunnel and turned on their heels after a cursory check of the area. Anton felt himself relaxing slightly.

_She's not that bad, I guess. Not as bad as I thought._

* * *

* * *

For a while, the time flew by. Her companionship was growing steadily less awkward with each round trip of the mine, even when they had nothing in particular to talk about. Even so, though, the route soon began to wear him down again.

"It has to be getting near the end of our shift by now." He muttered as they crested the lip of the mine and stood in the pale moonlight. "Where are those two elves? Cassandra and Whats-his-name? They're still supposed to be relieving us, right?"

"I suppose so. They can't leave us out here forever. And I think their names were Kalandra and Desarune." She corrected him. She was starting to look tired as well, but she walked as steadily as ever. "This place could do with a clock or two, if you ask me. I can't tell time worth a spit with the moon just staying up there."

"I hear that. This is probably the worst post I've ever gotten. Was that mine you were at this bad? Emberstone, wasn't it?" He asked.

"That's the one." She answered, drawing her gaze away from the moon. "It was a lot less steep going up and down, I'll say that much. Shifts were shorter, too."

"Sounds like a dream to me."

"Ah, well. We'll be out of here soon enough - Hey, that's them now!"

Her face abruptly perked up as she pointed off towards the garrison. Anton followed her hand, looking to see the two elves approaching at last. A small group of draenei were following behind them, carrying crystals and strange devices Anton couldn't name the purpose of.

"Who are all those guys behind them?" He wondered.

"No idea."

Desarune and Kalandra both greeted them with a wave as they drew near. Anton found himself somewhat jealous of the bright, fresh looks on their faces.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Miller -" Desarune started.

"Just Anton will be fine." Anton laughed. He probably shouldn't, but the elf's insistence on formality was so strange.

"Ah. My apologies. Well, good afternoon, Anton and...?" He looked to Emily expectantly.

"Emily."

"Anton and Emily." He finished, casting an appraising eye on them. "You both look a little... worse for wear."

"One of those goren things got in the mine. A really big one." Anton explained. "You'll probably have to keep an eye out for them while you're on duty. I don't know if you've seen them..."

"The rock-frog creatures, correct?" Kalandra asked softly.

"What? They're frogs?" Anton's brow furrowed.

"They look like frogs." Kalandra said with a small shrug. "We helped to bury a great number of them earlier. They remind me of the toads I used to see around the Stonetalon Mountains, only far larger."

"And covered with rocks." Anton supplied. "Well, I'll tell you now, keep an eye on the walls. They dig through the earth like moles and they jump out at you. Their bellies are weak, though, if you can -"

"We know, no need to worry." Desarune interrupted him with a bemused smile, nodding towards the draenei behind him. "Our friends from Elodor have already informed us about them. They've brought countermeasures they use to keep the creatures away."

"Oh. Well, that would have been handy a few hours ago." Anton grumbled.

One of the draenei spoke up, hefting the crystal in his hands. "We could not have came here faster, I am afraid. We arrived here only so fast with the help of your sorcerer."

"Sorcerer? Commander Dawson?" Emily asked curiously. "She's at Elodor?"

"I believe that was her name, yes. She is at Elodor." The draenei spoke slowly, his heavy accent clearly marking him as a Draenor native. "I have never travelled by portal before, and I say I did not like it much, but it was at least very fast. Now, please let us pass, we have work we must do."

He turned and said something in Draenic to his companions behind him, speaking much more rapidly and fluidly in his own tongue. The four Azerothians stood aside to let the group of draenei through.

"I wonder who's been teaching him Common." Anton said under his breath as the last one passed. "His accent's terrible."

"Be fair, he's probably only had a day or two to learn." Emily chuckled quietly.

"A day or two? What? No-one learns a whole language that fast." Anton's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Unless he spent all that time rehearsing that specific speech or something."

"I... don't know. That is odd, now I think about it." Emily replied, looking back at the draenei thoughtfully.

"We'll leave you to your musings." Desarune interjected, recalling Anton's attention as the elf clapped him on the shoulder. "Elune be with you both."

The elves both left, following the draenei crew into the mine. Anton and Emily watched them go for a moment.

"Well, let's head back." Emily suggested. "I want to get a proper wash."

"Yeah. I could do with some sleep, as well." Anton agreed.

"We've still got our report to do first, don't forget." She reminded him.

"Oh. Yeah.' He said glumly.

They made the walk back to the barracks quietly, the busy commotion of the garrison washing over them. It was quieter than it was in the mine, but still not as quiet as the silence of the surrounding forest. Emily was walking much more slowly; He didn't know if she was deliberately letting him keep up or soaking in the serenity after the tension of the patrol, but he appreciated it either way.

Captain Montoy's crisp voice addressed them from behind his table as they stepped into the barracks. "Miller! Brown! There you are. Get over here."

Anton's mood soured immediately at the sharp address. He doubted anything Montoy had to say would be good news. Next to him, Emily's face fell for a moment, but she quickly forced it back into place. It heartened Anton somewhat to know that she felt as unpleasantly about it as he did, but that wasn't enough to quell the rising sense of trepidation as they walked to Montoy's desk.

"You'll no longer be needed in the mines, if those draenei crystals do the job they promised. I'm reassigning the pair of you -"

"What, again?" Anton asked incredulously.

"Don't interrupt me, Miller." Montoy glared at him, and Anton shrank back. "And yes, again. Your next shift will be at the south gate. Same times. Dismissed."

They saluted and left, Anton mentally kicking himself for speaking without even thinking. Emily cast a somewhat amused eye down on him.

"You really do complain too much." She snickered. "It's going to get you into trouble one of these days."

"Yeah, yeah. Spare me." Anton muttered, embarrassed. "Come on, let's get that report out of the way. I'm tired as hell."


	5. Oddball Entourage

Anton awoke some time before his shift was due to start. For a while he simply lay in his bunk, half asleep and unable to rouse himself sufficiently to climb out of bed. To his irritation, he found himself slowly waking up instead of falling back to sleep, and eventually he gave up entirely. With a groan, he sat up and hauled himself to his feet.

It was mostly quiet in the barracks, as it usually was. Roughly half the bunks around him were occupied by soldiers of varying races, and those who were awake and working were going about their business as quietly as they could. The familiarity of the scene comforted him, despite the odd shapes and sizes of his fellows' silhouettes in their beds. He was used to a barracks full of humans, as it had been in the Stormwind Guard. It made a strange sight to see a tremendous, blue-skinned draenei sleeping not a few beds away from a tiny gnome woman. For a moment, he looked at her diminutive form in confusion, wondering how it was she could hold her own against people literally more than twice her size.

_She would have been sent somewhere else if she couldn't pull her weight, but still... How?_

Anton eventually dismissed the thought with a shrug, reasoning that it was only his problem if he was partnered up with her, and it was Montoy's problem if she didn't belong there at all. He stretched and looked around the room, noting that someone had finally put up a simple clock near the back, then realizing that he didn't actually know what time his shift was supposed to start at. Without any clocks or the sun and moon's passing to tell the time, he'd just been going off whatever Montoy had said to him.

I wonder if everyone else has been doing the same.

He shrugged to himself, resolving to ask Emily when she woke up. There wasn't a lot he could do about it now. He searched for her in the mess of beds to see if she was awake or not, and located her just as she sat up. She rubbed her eyes blearily, then met his gaze as her eyes swept the room.

_Nice timing._

She raised one eyebrow at him questioningly, and he responded with a simple shrug - She was far enough away that he'd risk waking people up if he spoke his answer. She sighed and pulled herself out of her bunk, approaching him with footsteps light enough that he couldn't even hear.

"What are you doing up already? Our shift's not for another hour and a half." She asked quietly.

"It isn't? How do you know?"

"Asked the Sergeant before I hit the hay last night."

"Oh. Good thinking." He nodded, realizing he could have done the same himself. "Montoy never actually gave us the times, did he? I can't remember."

"No, he didn't."

"Makes me wonder how he expects us to do our job when he can't even tell us when we have to do it." He glared at the Captain's empty table as though Montoy would feel his disapproval even without being there.

"I don't know about that." She argued. "Probably a hell of a job keeping everyone as organized as he did considering how shithouse our landing was. I don't blame him for making a few mistakes."

"I suppose." He conceded. "Still, it's annoying."

"There's a lot worse things to be out here than annoyed."

To that he had no answer.

A lull in the conversation followed. He realized that he could faintly hear the sounds of saws and hammers and the shouting of laborers co-ordinating. He wondered if they were working on the barracks like that dwarf woman had mentioned, or if there was some other new building going up.

It seemed like the garrison's situation was improving day by day. The toils of the labor teams were bearing fruit; the camp was secure even if the lodgings weren't the most comfortable, and the draenei were already reaching out to offer them aid. Even though their enemies were many and the wildlife was strange, the campaign seemed to be picking up momentum again after a devastating start.

"Yeah, maybe you're right. I guess it could have gone a lot worse." He said. "No chance I'll be buying him a round or anything, though. Not after he put us on lavatory duty, and that damned mine post."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't either." She gave a short barking laugh.

"Well. Since I'm up, I'm going to get myself some breakfast. You coming?"

"Dinner, you mean. It's coming up on midnight."

"Whatever. You know we get the same stuff either way."

* * *

* * *

Anton and Emily left the barracks together when it came time to start their shift, making their way through the busy bustle of the garrison. He noticed the majority of the laborers seemed to be working around the north wall near the mine, replacing the wooden walls with sturdy stone fortifications.

"I wonder if they're paying the workers overtime." He commented, pointing towards them.

"Yeah, with a treasury that doesn't exist." Emily scoffed.

"Maybe they're writing them checks."

"They'd better be writing us some while they're at it." She said flatly, wringing a laugh out of Anton.

They made good time towards the gate, and the two guards on duty greeted them gladly. Though the brown-bearded dwarf and tall draenei woman couldn't have been more different in stature, their relieved expressions were near identical. He didn't particularly recognize either of them, but their distinctive grey and blue armor clearly marked them out as soldiers on duty.

"Ah, finally!" The draenei exclaimed. "Our replacements, yes?"

"Aye, that's us." Anton smiled.

"Good!" She beamed. "I was just getting bored. And hungry. The shifts here are long."

"Bah, ye should try a postin' in good ol' Dun Morogh." The dwarf said good-naturedly. "Twenty hours out in the snow, that'll put ya through yer paces."

"Twenty hours?" Anton said in disbelief.

"Out in the snow? You'd be dead of frostbite halfway in." Emily observed, her eyebrows raised in doubt.

"Nah. Any dwarf worth his salt can do it. Builds character." He said with a jovial laugh. "A good, hot meal does sound like just the ticket right now, though."

"Yeah, hah! Let me know if you find one." Anton laughed. "They just keep giving me that weird draenei bread."

"Ah, that's Rylak Claws! My old favorite! I had not had it in such a long time before I came back here." The draenei cut in, a wide smile on her face. "Well, we've nothing to report, so I'll take my leave right now. I hear the kitchens calling me!"

Without even waiting for a response she gave a small wave goodbye and left at a hurried pace.

"Well, she seems pretty enthusiastic, doesn't she?" Anton said with one brow raised. "I didn't even get to ask what those Rylak Claws are actually supposed to be."

"Just be thankful ye don't have to put up with her, lad." The dwarf joked as he made to follow her. "Nothin' to report, though, like she said. Good luck."

Anton bid the dwarf farewell as he and Emily took up the now vacant spots beside the path.

"Twenty hours. He was pulling our leg, right?" Anton asked bemusedly.

Emily scoffed. "Has to be. Unless they're only on shift like once every few days... Even then, that'd be stupid. You'd be half asleep towards the end of it even if you weren't dead in the snow."

"Yeah. Probably just making it up." Anton shrugged. "That draenei is an odd one as well, isn’t she? It's strange to think she’s already been here before. She must be happy to be home."

"Yeah. It's weird, but truthfully, I'm a little jealous..." Emily shook her head morosely.

"Jealous? Of what?"

"That she gets to see her home again like this. I know, it's silly, but still..." She sighed.

"Oh. Right. No, I get it." He nodded emphatically as he remembered what she'd told him of Gilneas. "No, I don’t think it's silly, but... I don't know. This whole... going back in time thing makes me feel a little nervous to think about. Wouldn't you rather just kick the Forsaken out and have it back normally?"

"Well, that would be nice, of course." She said plainly. "But it won't bring back all the lives they took. And it won't fix the land the Cataclysm ruined."

"True." He agreed ruefully. "Still, it's all a bit strange for me. I wonder what would happen if you ran into yourself while you were back in time, or something?"

"I don't know. That is an odd thought." She conceded. "Still, it would be worth it just to see my home again."

_Still not so sure about that, myself, but I guess it's nice to have a dream._

Soon enough they settled into the usual idle quiet, minding their own thoughts as quietly as they minded their post. Without the continuous back and forth of the stone and ore carts, there was a lot less for them to do, and a lot less noise being made. Anton found it easy to appreciate the quiet.

The peace was broken when Emily abruptly flicked her head towards the inside garrison, alerting him that someone was coming. He turned to follow her gaze and saw several carts heading towards them, pulled by an eclectically-colored mix of talbuks. Several men clad in chequered red lumberjack's attire walked alongside it, and a woman whom he guessed was in charge hailed them with a wave. In her hands he caught a glimpse of a paper with a brightly-coloured Alliance seal on it. He immediately straightened his posture.

"Good day!" She called cheerfully as she stopped the carts.

"Good evening." Anton replied, affecting a polite smile. "Where are you fine lads and lasses off to this night?"

"We finally got our logging operation approved." She smiled back, handing him the official-looking letter. "We're headed to the woods east of here. Should be a fairly simple trip."

"Yeah? What makes you think that?" Anton asked as he read through the paper. It was mostly drivel; the word 'authorized' and an official seal were good enough for him.

"Well, this forest didn't prove too dangerous. Doesn't seem much of a stretch to assume the next one will be the same."

"Not too dangerous? You mean besides the giant earth elemental?" Anton gave her a dry look.

"Well, yes, besides that." She backtracked quickly. "That was a comparatively small incident, though."

Anton heard Emily scoff from next to him before he answered. "If you say so. Well, this all looks in order. Good luck out there."

He handed the paper back quickly and stood aside to let her through.

"Thank you!" She beamed another smile. "Okay, boys, let's get moving again! Come on, Jarrod, let's go."

The man riding the head cart shook his head exasperatedly as he spurred the horses into action. "No need to rush so much, Shelly. It will still be there if we're a few minutes late."

"Well, the sooner the better, right? If we make good time, we can..."

Anton tuned them out as they slowly pulled away.

Emily cast her eyes on him with mock suspicion as the last cart went past. "That was more professional than I've come to expect out of you."

"Oh, that's harsh." Anton put his hand up to his heart, feigning hurt. "Maybe I just wanted to make a good impression."

"Or maybe you wanted to impress her because you think you've got a chance?" She suggested, her tone one of mocking playfulness.

"Maybe." He played along. "Or maybe I just saw the fancy bit of paper in her hands and thought it'd be a good idea to do my job properly for a little bit."

She barked out a short laugh. "Ah. That'd do it."

"I haven't seen you showing much of that 'professionalism', if I'm honest." Anton drawled. "Tell you what - you can take the next one, if you want. I'll let you practice for a bit."

"Nah, I'll be fine, thanks." She shot back with a grin. "I'll leave the kiss-up to the expert."

At that Anton just laughed along with her, unable to think of a comeback that could keep the exchange going. He wondered where the seriousness and stoicism that had characterized her for the last few days had gone, and where she had rustled up such banter from.

* * *

* * *

To his surprise, Anton found himself starting to warm up to her as their shift progressed. It was nice that she was willing to talk and joke with him like any of the other guards he used to work with. To think that a mere few days ago he had almost resigned himself to a boring, miserable future where he'd be praying for a transfer away from her.

"So, tell me something." Anton said conversationally. "You're a human turned into a worgen, right?"

"I'm going to guess that was setting up for something. There's no way you actually need me to answer that." Emily quirked an eyebrow cheekily at him.

"Humour me." He insisted.

"... Alright, fine. Yes."

"Do you reckon there's anything out there that could turn you back into a human again?"

To his surprise, she actually laughed and shook her head. "I can already do that, actually."

"What, really? How come you stay as a worgen all the time, then?" He asked incredulously. "Show me!"

She looked out at the road for a moment, her gaze unfocused as though she was concentrating on something else. Licks of dark smoke seemed to emanate from her, slowly shrouding her form as they coalesced and swirled around her. The sudden spectacle was slightly unnerving, but he held his tongue - He was fairly certain that she wouldn't have sounded so confident if she didn't know what she was doing.

He heard the sound of a great rush of air, as though the wind itself was trying to expel some unwanted presence, and the smoke abruptly cleared from around her. Just like that, it was over as fast as it had started. The massive wolf woman was gone, a much smaller human standing in her place, armed and armored in exactly the same way. She was just slightly shorter than him.

She turned to look up at him, and he realized as he saw her nose instead of her eyes that her helmet was now far too large for her. It wasn't so much being worn properly as it was simply sitting on top of her cuirass. As she started to teeter backwards, flailing her arms wildly, he realized that all her armor was sat on top of itself the exact same way. She wasn't wearing it, now - she was stuck in it.

Before he could take more than a step forward to help her, she lost her balance entirely and came crashing down to earth with a heavy report. Her pauldrons only stayed on by virtue of the now-loose straps holding them in place; her helmet fell off completely, rolling a few feet away to expose her pale face and head of stringy black hair. Anton was struck for a moment by how... ordinary she looked.

"Ow! Shit!" She cursed vehemently. Her human voice sounded a lot more refined than he would have thought, and quite unfitting for her foul-mouthed outburst. "I forgot that would happen!"

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking down at her with concern, unsure whether or not to offer her a hand.

"No. I can't move!" She snapped, an embarrassed blush rapidly colouring her cheeks. "I forgot my clothes and stuff don't change with me. Help me up, alright?"

She reached up one gloved hand slowly, carefully like an old woman with rheumatism. Anton leaned down to grasp it, but was surprised when she promptly let go as soon as he grabbed it. Her gauntlet slipped through his like it was covered in oil.

"Uh, if you want me to help, you should probably actually grab my hand." He frowned.

"Well, I can't close my fingers. My hand only comes up to about the palm part." She grumbled. "Can't you just lift me up?"

"What? You're in full plate!" He said incredulously. "How do you expect me to do that?"

"Well - Just... Alright, let me think for a second." Emily fell into silence with an exasperated sigh.

The ridiculousness of the situation forced a laugh out of Anton. Just minutes ago, he had been on guard with a soldier; a guard, like himself. Her intimidating strength, her fearsome appearance and her brusque demeanour made for a person he kept a healthy respect for. And now? The woman lying undignified on the grass, stuck in her armor, was so far removed from the Emily he knew that she might have been a completely different person.

"Yeah, yeah, don't laugh too much." She growled as her face reddened further, mustering a low timbre into her voice. It was a clear attempt to keep her dignity intact, and it only made Anton laugh again.

"Sorry, it's just - Come on, it's funny." Anton tried to push the smile off his face.

"Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it." She said sarcastically. "Why don't you lend me a hand instead of giggling to yourself?"

"Why don't you just change back again?" He suggested.

"Because my fur gets caught up in my armour and my arms and legs get stuck. That's what happened the last time I tried that."

"Wait, you've done this before?" Anton fell into another fit of laughter as Emily's face reddened even further.

She gave an indignant snarl that almost made her sound like she was still a worgen. "Quit laughing! It's not funny! Just - Just help me out of my armour, alright? I'll change back and then put it back on again."

"Are you serious? Right now?" The situation suddenly lost a lot of its comedy for Anton as he realized how strange - and unprofessional - the situation would look if anyone saw them. "We're on duty. What if someone comes by?"

"Well, hurry up and help me so I can get done before someone does!"

Anton hesitated for a moment, before caving to the pressure and kneeling down to help her.

_Of all the girls that could have been asking me to strip them, of course it had to be the one who’s a worgen. At least it's not her clothes too, I guess._

He peeled away the first few pieces of her armor with some trepidation, aiming to free her hands so she could help herself. Thankfully, once done she was able to do most of the rest herself, only needing some assistance to get out of her breastplate. He ended up spending more time looking awkwardly over his shoulder to make sure no-one was headed their way than actually helping, but soon enough she was able to stand up straight, clothed in only her baggy leather padding.

Outside of her armor, he couldn't help but notice how small she was. Granted she was only slightly shorter than him, but it was slightly strange to be looking down at her instead of up. On some level she still looked like the same tough, no-nonsense person he knew, but when compared to the worgen she had been she looked postively frail.

"Alright, that's a bit better." She exhaled. "Now to turn back."

Again her eyes took on that look as though she was staring intently at something far off in the distance, and as she started to focus the licks of dark smoke began to surround her once more. The foreboding cloud of shadows grew thicker as it wrapped around her, shrouding her from sight as she grew and changed.

When the smoke dissipated, she was once again in her familiar worgen form. Her under armor was almost form fitting again - and her chest was at eye level again. For a moment he might have looked away - he’d seen it before, after all - but the closeness and suddenness of the sight foisted on him let it dig its claws in deep.

"There we go. It feels good to be back to normal." She said. The hoarseness returned to her voice with her form change, but the relief in it was still audible.

Anton didn't respond, slightly occupied as he was with the sight in front of him. He couldn't help where his eyes went, or the thoughts they were sending to his brain. On the edge of his vision he saw the slight glow of her eyes looking down at him, and he suddenly realized she knew exactly where he was looking.

He tore his eyes away to meet hers. For a long moment the two of them only looked at each other, her gaze inscrutable, intimidating, matching against his own that he tried to keep defiant as he searched for her judgment. There was a number of things he was afraid of, but she was still not one of them.

Still, there was something that set his heartbeat to racing as he looked up at her. His blood was pumping as fast as it did in the thick of a fight, and he couldn't pin down exactly why it was. He had a healthy respect for her, but he wasn't afraid. Intimidated a bit, sure, and disgusted on one occasion - but no matter what wrath she might bring down on him, he was not afraid.

And surely there was no other feeling that might wring such a reaction out of him.

Neither of them said a word. Her ears flicked once as she studied him. It felt almost like a staring contest - the most intense staring contest he'd ever been a part of. He wasn't sure who was winning. He didn't even really know why he was keeping it going. All he knew was that something was locking his eyes to hers. There was something in them he was sure he could see, but he had no idea what exactly he was looking for.

She, it seemed, was thinking the same thing. She stared down at him just as intently, the fur on her face shifting just slightly in the soft breeze. Her glowing eyes searched this way and that as she studied him.

He had no idea how much time passed before something changed and she seemed to snap out of it. She suddenly took a step backward and shook her head as though waking up from a light doze. Just like that, the spell on him was broken. All of a sudden, her eyes lost their captivation.

_What the hell was that?_

He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding as he took his helmet off. He felt like he had to rub his eyes clear of whatever it was that had gotten in them and fogged his brain.

When he dared to look again, he was sure that whatever he'd been looking for in her simply wasn't there. Whatever that moment was, it had passed, and left him to see the situation they were in with clarity. He was on guard duty in Draenor, staring crazy-eyed at a woman - no, a worgen - who had just taken off her armor. While still standing at her post, no less.

"I... uh..." He mumbled, dazedly hoping to fill the awkward silence. He almost wished that feeling would come back; wherever it had fled to, the reality it had left in its wake was severely uncomfortable.

It was a sentiment Emily clearly shared. When it finally came, her voice was so carefully neutral that it couldn't have been anything but a deliberate effort. "... Help me put my chestpiece back on?"

"Yeah... Yeah, alright."

He did his utmost to keep his mind from straying any further than it already had as he picked her breastplate up off the pale grass and handed it off to her. She held it in place against her chest as he fastened the backplate to it, straining to keep his mind focused.

"Thanks." She murmured. She rolled her shoulders as she pulled away from him, letting her armor settle back on her.

Anton turned back to the road while she re-outfitted herself. She could do it on her own, and he was desperate to keep his mind somewhere else. He couldn't make sense of what had just happened.

_Or... Maybe I can and I just don't want to. Light's sake, why her?_

His brain ran away without him, pondering the question without his permission. Why her, indeed? It couldn't be because of her... appearance. That was a thought he was simply unwilling to accept. She was seven feet tall, covered in fur, and her teeth - no, fangs, they were - jutted out of her mouth as though trying to reach out and eat him.

_That is not something I can be attracted to, no matter how good a friend she is or how big her tits are._

Or at least, he direly hoped that was the case.

He was just about to clamp down on that insidious thought when he saw Emily taking up her position across the path from him, having finished putting her armor back on. Their eyes met for a moment as she spared him a nervous glance.

He couldn't think of anything to say, and she looked away again.

* * *

* * *

Anton couldn't tell how much time he passed in an idle daze after that strange exchange. His thoughts were muddled. Every so often he would sneak a glance at her, or he would notice her sneaking one at him. It was oddly gratifying to know that the moment had affected her as much as it had him, but he didn't want to spare any thought to acknowledge that feeling, let alone figure it out.

He only came back down properly to reality when he heard a far-off shout coming from down the road. He and Emily looked to see a procession of talbuk-pulled wagons slowly trundling toward them. A group of draenei flanked it on both sides - some were clearly armed and armored, walking with military discipline, but he could see several wearing plain cloth and leather interwoven between them.

On some level he was grateful for their appearance, even before he knew who they were. They were something he could focus seriously on - some proper business to get him away from his own thoughts.

"Look at that. Who do you think they are?" He asked as he warily scanned the approaching wagons. By his count there were roughly a dozen or so guards and maybe twice as many civilians.

"I think I can see civilians there. Might be a trading caravan." Emily responded, her voice a brisk clip.

"I hope so. Soldiers too, though. Could be anything."

She gave a terse nod. "Could be. Better be ready, just in case."

They shared a quick, reassuring glance as the caravan drew nearer. Her alert stance and sharp gaze told him without a word spoken that she was on the same page he was, ready for whatever might come.

_Regardless of anything else, it's still nice to be on duty with someone competent._

He felt heartened as he set his eyes back on the draenei caravan, knowing that if it came to a fight, he would not be alone. Together they waited, holding tightly to their weapons and shields in a tense vigil. The wagons steadily approached hailing distance.

"Stop there and identify yourselves!" Emily barked, her voice loud and commanding.

The caravan slowed and came to a stop, the draenei's chatter ceasing and the tension rising as the guards made wary, uncertain movements towards the front. One of the caravaneers came forward with them, leaving his fellows behind as nervous spectators. His rich green and brown clothing looked out of place amongst the small crowd of soldiers, but he stood with them nonetheless, eyeing Anton and Emily cautiously before he spoke.

"Hello! My name is Faraan!" He called out haltingly, as though he wasn't sure he was speaking the words properly. "This is... Lunarfall, yes?"

"That it is." Anton answered. "What's your business here, Faraan?"

"Business, uh... Busin - Oh!" A flash of recognition lit up the draenei's face. "Yes, I know that word. Our business is buying! Oh - And selling! We are traders. We come from Embaari Village." He pointed emphatically back down the road they had come from.

"Trading caravan after all. And here was us getting all excited." Anton muttered quietly to Emily, giving silent thanks to the Light that it was nothing worse. He let himself relax slightly.

"We weren't expecting any traders, were we? I wasn't told about this." She asked doubtfully. Anton had no answer to give except a shrug.

"May we enter? We have many things for buy and trade!" Faraan continued, offering them a winning smile. Already he seemed more personable than the other Shadowmoon draenei Anton had met.

"One moment!" Anton replied before he switched his attention to Emily. "We better go get someone. You want to do it, or me?"

"I'll do it, I'm faster." She said. "You keep an eye on them."

"Sure. It's not like they're gonna do anything if they're only traders." He replied as she clipped her shield to her back and ran off into the garrison. He turned back to the draenei. "My friend's just going to get someone higher up. We weren't really expecting you lot, but I still think they'll let you in. Still, you'll have to sit tight and wait till she comes back, alright?"

"Aha. Wait." Faraan said with a knowledgeable nod. Anton had to hide a grin at how proud the guy seemed to be of his simple grasp of Common. "Yes, I know this word, also. Yes, we wait."

He turned and said something in Draenic to his fellows, who visibly relaxed at his words. The gathered guards dispersed back to their original formation, the usual noise and commotion of a caravan resuming as the merchants and craftsmen realized there was no danger. Though the words were entirely foreign, the sounds still reminded Anton pleasantly of the times he'd visited the Darkmoon Faire.

The caravan seemed content to keep their distance as they waited, but Anton thought it best to keep one eye on them anyway. Some of them seemed to already have a mind to set up shop as they looked for a place off the road to park their wagons. Still others were milling about uncertainly, perhaps unsure if they should be so presumptuous as to start unpacking without permission.

It was only a few minutes later that Emily returned with Captain Montoy in tow. A few guards followed along behind them, and somewhat unexpectedly there was one other - he recognized her as Noxiia Atoh, the draenei Anchorite whom he'd had to argue his way out of the medical tent against.

_I'm getting better at remembering these people's names._

"Miller! What's the situation?" Montoy said brusquely.

"Just a trading caravan, sir." Anton responded with a salute.

"Who's in charge?"

"I don't know, sir. There was one guy talking to me - His name was Faraan, I think." Anton tried to point him out, but couldn't recognize him amidst the crowd of draenei.

"Faraan? I know him. He sells sweets sometimes, when he comes past." Atoh said, her face lighting up with recognition. "Come with me, Captain, I will find him for you."

"Very good. Thank you, Anchorite." Montoy said with a polite nod. The two of them set off towards the wagons at a brisk pace, leaving Anton and Emily at the gate without another word. The small group of guards trailed along behind them.

Anton watched them go, holding down his irritation. "He's a lot more polite with her than he is with us, I notice."

"Well, she's not under his authority, is she?" Emily replied.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Wait - What's she doing here with the Captain, then?"" Anton's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"I don't know. She overheard me telling him about the caravan and asked to come have a look." Emily said indifferently.

That only made Anton more suspicious. "And... He just let her?"

"Yep," She said. "I suppose he's playing nice because she'd be telling Prophet Velen if he didn't."

"No way. He doesn't strike me as the type to think like that. That's politics talk." Anton grumbled. "Bet he's got the hots for her. Bet you anything."

"A month's wages." Emily replied immediately, looking down at him with a wolfish grin.

He quailed at how eager she was to meet his wager. Either she knew something he didn't, or she was more reckless than he thought. Either way, he was quickly starting to reconsider. "Er... Alright, maybe not anything. Make it a week's."

"Soft as shit." Emily scoffed lightly. "Yeah, alright, a week's. You're on."

Anton returned his gaze to the caravan, but he wasn't really looking at it. Rather, he was busy wondering if he hadn't just made a mistake in making such an impromptu bet. Surely Montoy wouldn't have thought to be as tactful as that, was he? In the time Anton had known him, the guy had been nothing but a hardass. He'd even been rather spiteful in handing out punishment after they'd helped save the mine crew from the goren.

_... Except for that one time I saw him outside the barracks after my shift._

The sudden memory made Anton's heart fall down into his gut as he remembered how sincere the Captain had been, and how he himself had thought that the guy might just be playing up his draconian act. Anton inadvertently stood a little straighter, trying to disguise the sudden spike of nervousness as he realized that he may have just thrown away a chunk of his paycheck.

"Hey, heads up." Emily said under her breath, snapping him back to reality.

Anton forced himself to put the thought at the back of his mind, focusing to see Atoh and Montoy walking back towards them, having apparently settled their business with the merchants. Anton gave a hurried salute as the pair approached.

"The caravan will be camped here until tomorrow. You're to let the traders come and go freely until then." Montoy informed them. He turned and beckoned two men from the group behind him. "Samson. Jaxon. You two are on this post as well until the next shift change."

Emily didn't wait for the two footmen Montoy had singled out to come forward. She pre-emptively decided to join Anton on his side of the path, making room for the other two to take the other side.

Montoy eyed the pair shrewdly for a moment. "Now, you two... You'll be pleased to know I'm taking you off lavatory duty. Instead, you'll be going with the caravan when they leave."

"Yes, s - Wait, what? Are you serious?" Anton's eyes opened wide in disbelief. Surely he wasn't about to send them out into Draenor at large.

"Thought you might say that." Montoy smirked slightly at the reaction. "Yes, Miller, as a matter of fact I am. Anchorite Atoh is leaving with them, and they're concerned about possible aggression from the Shadowmoon clan. You two will be tagging along with her as guards, as a favour to our new friends. Your primary concern is her safety."

"... Just us? No-one else?" Anton asked nervously. "Wouldn't it make more sense to send a whole squad, sir?"

"We don't have the numbers to spare for that, Miller, or I would."

"But - Wait - Where are we even going? When are we coming back?" Anton stammered. He was reluctant to leave the garrison - he had only just started to get used to the place after the disaster that Tanaan Jungle had been.

He didn't mind fighting when the situation called for it. He'd never shied away from a confrontation during his time in the Stormwind Guard, and he felt he'd acquitted himself well since joining the Draenor campaign and surviving his first real battles. He'd never think of backing down when there were lives on the line, when he had a job to do.

But still - A whole other world. An enemy army of unknown numbers, and other alien dangers besides them. Every possibility of being cut off from retreat if they were ambushed away from the garrison, away from the only place he knew of that held any promise of a portal back home. Standing up to Emily wasn’t a big ask, but this was a whole other can of worms.

_And Montoy wants to send just us two out there. He's joking. He must be joking._

"You'll be accompanying them to Embaari Village and coming back once they've arrived. Should take you a day or two at most." Montoy said firmly. "I won't brook any argument on this, Miller."

"But -" Anton fell silent as Montoy gave him a warning glare. "... Yes, sir."

"Good. Back to your duties." Montoy said, striding away through the garrison gate. Anton didn't even deign to salute.

"Be brave. It won't be so bad." Anchorite Atoh said consolingly as she made to follow the captain. "I will be with you, of course. I will show you around Embaari Village when we arrive!"

"Great. Fantastic." Anton fumed under his breath as she left. "He's playing with us. He must be. Have you noticed this is the fourth time we've been reassigned since we got here?"

"Yeah, I've noticed. Although I think it's the third." Emily corrected him.

"Whatever. Third, fourth - whatever. When's the last time you got swapped posts three shifts in a row?" Anton seethed.

"Well, never." She admitted. "I'll be honest, it is starting to get a bit annoying. But still, at times like this I suppose needs must."

"'Needs must'?" Anton echoed incredulously. "There's no 'need' here. He literally just said we're basically going as a favour, like a peace offering or something. I bet she didn't even ask, and he was the one who offered."

"He did say the orcs have been getting more aggressive lately, though." She pointed out, her brows knitted together.

"You really think that's what was on his mind when he offered us up? Look me in the eye and tell me you believe that." He challenged.

She did indeed meet his eyes at that, her gaze slightly pensive - but she didn't answer him. He wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign or not.

Anton thought back to his bet. He wasn't sure now if Montoy was even more political-minded than he'd realized, or so thirsty for Atoh he was willing to risk their lives to slake it. Whatever the case, he was at least no longer concerned with the money he might lose. He had bigger worries now.

"You know, things were actually starting to look up for a bit there." Anton grumbled. "I never should have signed up for this stupid campaign."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now." Emily said quietly. "I'm sure it won't be that bad."

The merchant Faraan chose that time to interject in their conversation, approaching them with a cheerful smile and a wave. He appeared to be eager to get down to business now that he had permission to enter the garrison, having already loaded himself up with goods while his fellows were still milling around their wagons.

"Hello, friends!" He beamed, proffering a leather bag towards them. It clattered as though filled with small stones. "Sweets and drinks, I sell. Want one? One free! Here - Try!"

Anton shared an uncertain glance with Emily before hesitantly reaching out and taking one from the bag.

"What is it?" He asked, inspecting the yellowy-green clump of rock candy closely.

"Sugar Pear Sweets. Very, uh... Popular, is that word?" Faraan offered the bag to Emily as well, and she took one and promptly popped it in her mouth with a muttered thanks. "Come, buy more soon. I will see you!"

Anton stood aside to let him pass through the gates, still considering the candy he held in his gauntleted hand. Sweets from thirty-odd years in the past on an alien, hostile world. He wasn't sure he'd ever held anything weirder in his hand, and he couldn't decide if he wanted to eat it or not.

Next to him, Emily loudly crunched on hers without a care in the world. Anton spared her a glance to see her nodding appreciatively. "This is actually pretty good. Maybe a bit too sugary."

_Well, good enough for me, I suppose._

After a moment's hesitation he lifted his helmet and popped his own into his mouth as well.


	6. Bodyguard

Anton sat on his bunk, finishing fastening his gauntlets up. He’d been woken up when Anchorite Atoh had showed up at the barracks and informed them that the caravan was gearing up to leave - his and Emily’s cue to get up and gear up. This time they’d managed to avoid any awkward episodes as they helped each other into their armor, to his relief.

He looked down into his near-empty footlocker, noticing the bottle of cider Emily had bought for him. With the thought of being stranded out in Draenor persistent in his mind, he was sorely tempted to open it up. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to have a fortifying drink before they left. His nerves could do with some settling.

"What are you doing there?" Emily poked her nose in on him, having finished putting her armor on. It didn't take her long to notice the bottle he was gazing contemplatively at. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that... Were you going to drink it now?"

"I was thinking about it." Anton said honestly. "I could do with a bit of liquid courage."

"Mmmh. Probably better if you don't." She said slowly. "It'll be there when we get back. The Anchorite's already waiting for us outside, anyway."

"Alright, alright." Anton reluctantly closed his footlocker, affording himself one last wistful glance at the cider bottle. He heaved himself to his feet and collected his sword and shield before he followed Emily out of the barracks.

They spent the walk to the south gate in silence. Anton used the time to psyche himself up a bit, hoping to convince himself that nothing would go wrong through sheer force of repetition if nothing else. It would have been much more preferable to stay in the garrison, but an order was an order.

Anchorite Atoh met them outside the gate with a polite wave, falling into step besides them as they walked.

"Good evening, friends. Did you rest well?" She asked.

"As well as any other night, I guess." Anton replied while Emily merely shrugged in answer. "How long till we leave?"

"Mere moments, I am told. Head count is finished, everyone is prepared, everything is packed," Atoh smiled. "You will like Embaari Village, I think. I visit it often. It is a nice place, very quiet."

"Yeah, that's assuming we make it there alive." Anton shook his head resignedly. "I'm pretty sure this is going to end in disaster."

"We will be fine." Atoh admonished him. "It is only a short trip."

From up near the front of the caravan he heard a voice yell something in Draenic, signalling the start of the journey. The cart drivers urged their talbuks into action and the caravan slowly ground into motion. The dozen-odd draenei guards resumed the positions they had taken as they'd accompanied the wagons on their way into the garrison.

Anton, Atoh and Emily brought up the rear, following along with the caravan's brisk but manageable pace as they set off down the road. Anton had never done bodyguard work before, but already he felt uncomfortable. If the caravan was ambushed from behind, they'd be the first ones to be hit.

_Gonna have to try and angle us closer to the middle of the caravan, soon as I can._

"You know what I think? You complain too much, and you worry too much." Emily clapped him on the shoulder, with what he hoped was a good-natured smile stretching along her muzzle. "Relax a bit. We'll be fine."

"See? Your wolf friend is of the right mind." Atoh said encouragingly.

"Yeah, yeah." Anton grumbled. Before he continued, he pulled Emily away slightly and whispered just to her. "Look, do me a favour, will you?"

"What's that?" She murmured back, leaning down slightly to get her ears closer.

"Promise me you'll watch my back while we're out there?" He asked, trying to keep the paranoia he was feeling out of his voice.

She looked down at him seriously for a moment. "Of course. I thought we'd hashed this out the other day. I'll watch your back as long as you're watching mine."

"Alright. Thank you." He said, slightly relieved by the promise but still unable to shake off the feeling of dread. Still - Even if all his worst fears came true, at least there was someone looking out for him.

"What's got you so worried, anyway?" She brought her voice back to a normal volume as she asked. "The caravan got here just fine, stands to reason it'll go back fine as well."

"Just got a feeling." He said darkly. "Well, that and the fact that we're leaving behind our only possible way home and possibly heading towards an army of orcs."

"They're probably not even that organized. Like I said, they let the caravan get through once." Emily said dismissively. "Besides, we've already faced an army. We'll be fine."

"We ran away from that army." He reminded her. "Barely, I might add."

She flicked her ears in annoyance, but Anchorite Atoh chimed in before she could say anything.

"The Shadowmoon clan has shared the land with us for as long as we have been here. They have always been peaceful." She said assuringly. "Ner'zhul may have joined the Iron Horde, but it takes time for armies to prepare. It is not long since they closed their gates, so I doubt we will be troubled."

That much, at least, Anton couldn't argue with. The sign-up processes he had gone through to join first the Stormwind Guard and then later the Army were testament to the fact that you couldn't just declare war and instantly have a force ready to go. It would be some time before the Shadowmoon orcs were mustered and ready to join the Iron Horde proper.

_I just hope we're not past that point yet._

"Well, maybe you're right." Anton acquiesced. He couldn't confess his fears were truly assuaged, but it wasn't really worth it to argue against such logic. "I dunno. Guess I'm just being paranoid."

"Paranoid is good, sometimes. But I think it is not needed here." Atoh smiled. "Come, why do we not go and look around the wagons? I will introduce you around!"

For a while Anton and Emily passed the time following Atoh around as the caravan wore new tracks into the barely established road. They wandered up towards the head of the train, waving awkwardly as she called out foreign greetings and introduced them to people whom they couldn't actually converse with. At one point they walked past a draenei Anton vaguely recognized as one of the technicians who had installed the goren-repelling crystal in the mine, and they exchanged a cursory greeting - in Common, to Anton's relief.

The short interaction brought Anton's curiosity to a peak. Most of the Draenor natives he'd talked to seemed to have a very rudimentary grasp of Common at best, but even that was very impressive considering the short amount of time since the Alliance and Horde had arrived through the Dark Portal. Atoh in particular had a rather commanding understanding of it. It didn't seem possible to have learned so much, so quickly.

"Say, Anchorite. How do you know how to speak our language so well?" He piped up as they walked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh, I was taught at Holy Karabor. There are tutors there." She answered proudly. "It is not a popular subject, but I am fond of languages. I know some Orcish, also."

"Wait, what? They're already teaching - How?" Anton asked in disbelief. "We've only been here for a week or so."

"Oh, no, they were here long before you were." She laughed. "Your Common is known to us from excavations in Gorgrond. One team - decades ago, I think - told of a square room with golden tablets, deep underground. They had words in your language on them, but it took many years to decipher them. It is not quite the same -"

"That sounds impossible." Emily joined the conversation, her brows furrowed and her voice tinged with disbelief. "Gold tablets, with our language on them, buried underground... On a whole different world, decades before we even got here? I'd almost think you were making it up."

"I assure you, it's true." Atoh said firmly. "And, it is very fascinating, I find. It tells me there is some common link between our worlds. Perhaps our cultures were destined to meet?"

"Yeah... Maybe." Anton said as he shared a doubtful look with Emily. "... Do you know who wrote these tablets, then?'

"No. There are many theories, of course. Some believe it was the Apexis the arakkoan outcasts speak of, but we cannot get any proof. Those feathered fiends do not like to share their knowledge." She shook her head regretfully. "Some believe it was an entity of Light who wrote them, but again... There is no proof. Only theories and guesses."

Anton was surprised by how much knowledge she held on the topic, no matter how implausible some of it seemed. "So how come people bothered to learn it? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but nobody I know would have signed up to be taught some old language like that."

Atoh looked almost affronted. "Well, that is quite a shame. It is worth preserving these old languages, I think. Better than them being forgotten... In any case, some among the Anchorage study it for its reputation as a language of Light. I am not sure I believe such things, though - I learned it only to sate my curiosity. I still speak it for the prayers sometimes, but I feel no difference. I believe that mortals speak through words, but the Light speaks through deeds."

"I think they used to say something like that back at the Church." Anton muttered, recalling the fervent words of the Stormwind preachers. He'd never really been taken with all that kind of stuff.

"Really? That is fascinating. Perhaps we are linked closer than I thought." Atoh mused. "I will have to study your language more closely, I think. It is not quite the same as what I learned. You have many different words, and in places different to what I know. Perhaps your version changed with time? Our historians only preserve it, I think, and not many draenei speak it."

"Maybe Captain Montoy could help you with that. He seemed rather partial to you." Anton suggested innocently. Emily's eyes snapped onto him immediately - he could tell she knew exactly what he was trying to do.

_Well, there's nothing wrong with hedging the bet a little bit. We didn't say anything about not playing matchmaker._

"Do you think so? Hm... Perhaps that is a good idea." Atoh considered, ignorant to the silent disagreement behind her. "He seemed rather busy, but he was polite when we spoke. Is he learned in languages?"

"Well, I don't know, but he seems to have a soft spot for you. I'm sure he'd make time to tutor you." Anton encouraged, pointedly ignoring Emily's fierce look.

"Hm... Well, perhaps I will ask him when we return, if that is true." Atoh said sceptically.

Emily seemed to have had enough, pulling him back a short distance and growling into his ear. "It doesn't count if you set them up. You know that, right?"

"I don't remember us agreeing on that." He shrugged. He couldn't keep the innocent facade up any longer, and an inadvertent grin split across his face. Emily only growled louder, but she let him go.

"Cheating son of a whore." She grumbled as they made their way back to Atoh's side, but there was no venom in it.

They continued wandering the caravan, but Atoh seemed to mostly be caught up in her own thoughts and so she spared them the awkwardness of introducing anyone else to them. Towards the front end of the caravan they encountered the merchant Faraan, driving a talbuk wagon himself. He didn't need any introduction; as soon as he saw them he waved them over with abundant enthusiasm. Atoh greeted him in Draenic with the familiarity of an old friend, and Anton and Emily dutifully followed along behind her as she angled her trajectory to walk abreast of him.

Although the cheerful draenei offered them a greeting in broken Common, he soon slipped back into his native language just as all the others had. Anton couldn't really blame him for being more comfortable with his own language, but he also couldn't see much point in trying to follow a conversation he couldn't understand. He turned his attention instead to their surroundings, and the barely trodden road ahead.

Despite his nervousness about being away from the garrison, he couldn't deny the beauty of the plains they were travelling. The moon's pale glow lent the grass a soft, comforting look. It reminded him of a painting of a moonlit field he had seen in the Gilded Rose inn once, only now he was standing in it instead of looking from outside.

He had not previously thought of Draenor as anything but a massive battleground, as simply a place in which they would be waging war against the Iron Horde. The serene sight before him, however, drove such thoughts to the back of his mind. The night was disarmingly quiet, almost lonely despite the noise and bustle of the caravan he was travelling alongside. It was the kind of relaxing ambience he usually didn't appreciate much, but now found himself making an exception for.

"It's really quite pretty, isn't it?" He murmured offhandedly. Emily followed his gaze.

"It is, rather," She agreed quietly. "Reminds me of the nights back home."

"Almost seems like a nice place, just looking at this." He muttered. "You can almost forget about the whole army of orcs trying to kill us."

She just gave a short chuff of amusement.

* * *

* * *

Anton's legs were starting to get tired. It felt to him as though they'd been walking for hours, but as just as before, the moon had not budged an inch from its position in the sky. Its ever-present light shone down with the same pale glow that it had hours before, and days and weeks before that.

Anton thought about asking for the time to get his bearings, but decided that it wasn't worth troubling anyone over. It wasn't going to change the distance they had to walk. He wondered if the draenei here even kept time, with no obvious reference like a sun.

Atoh and Faraan had lapsed into silence long ago, walking in amenable quiet only occasionally broken by smatterings of their strange language. Every now and again he would lean down from his seat and offer them a small handful of Sugar Pear Sweets, waving off Anton's protests that he had nothing on him to pay with.

"No problems. Noxiia's friends are my friends, also." He had insisted.

Just as was the case with a normal post, he found his alertness slipping away over time. A steady walking pace did as little to break the hours of monotony as standing idle did. At least out here, there wasn't anyone who'd come in for a surprise check and catch you slacking off. In fact the noises of the caravan, the scenic landscape and the steady supply of candy made for the most nonchalant posting he could remember in a long time.

_Only thing that could make it better is if it was something to drink instead._

Even Emily's hard edge seemed to have been dulled somewhat. She carried herself loosely, only lazily drawing her eyes over the surrounding landscape as though she was admiring it instead of scanning it. She looked quite at ease for possibly the first time since Anton had met her.

Her eyes caught his as he looked her over, and for a second he could swear he saw in them the same mysterious captivation as he had yesterday - but this time when he blinked, it was gone as fast as he noticed it. She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I've decked men for looking at me like that before." She said offhandedly.

"What? Looking like what? I was just -" He stopped himself before he could try and finish that disaster of a sentence.

_Better to not even go there._

"Just what?" She pressed curiously, clearly intent on going there.

"Just..." He floundered for a moment. "Just looking."

Anton heard someone clearing their throat from behind him. Thankful for the diversion, he turned around to see Anchorite Atoh had fallen into step beside them. She had a nervous expression on her face.

"Shadowmoon Fortress is drawing close." She started, pointing up ahead into the distance. Large, grey stone walls loomed up ahead of the caravan - a fair distance off the road, some several hundreds of metres - but apparently close enough to cause her discomfort. "Well. Not Shadowmoon Fortress, anymore. Faraan has heard rumours. Apparently, the orcs call it Anguish Fortress now."

"Oh, that's a lovely name." Anton said with a grimace.

From the outside, the fortress didn't look like it particularly embraced its name. Its walls were simple and smooth stone, but they looked so solidly built that Anton thought they might simply deflect all efforts to conquer them. A great stone ziggurat stood tall towards the back end of it, but nothing else was visible over the massive walls. The whole fortress sat in the shadow of a mountain ridge, using the difficult terrain as a natural back wall.

It certainly made an intimidating impression on Anton. Just going past it would be a daunting enough task. He hoped and prayed he would never have to get any closer.

"Is that going to be trouble?" Emily asked, fixing the fort with an appraising gaze.

"Well. I was not worried before, but with honesty, I am now. He says they closed their gates and never come out now, but... I think I would like it if you both would keep close watch as we pass. I do not want to be surprised by any orcs." The gravity of Atoh's request had a quick effect on Anton. His earlier worries about danger on the road that he had only just managed to shake off had now returned with a vengeance.

"Yeah. Of course," Anton nodded. His fingers slipped down to the hilt of his sword, reassuring himself that it was still there if he needed it. "I had a feeling this was going to go bad."

"Nothing's happened yet." Emily reminded him as she peered off into the distance, investigating the fort more closely. "I don't see anyone nearby, at least."

"Yeah, but who knows how fast that might change." Anton said bitterly. He couldn't see much activity around or upon the walls, so there was still a possibility they might get lucky, but he didn't like that they were going to have to try their luck in the first place. "Isn't there any other route we can take or something?"

"No. This is the only road." Atoh heaved a sigh. "We are going to have to risk it."

_We're so screwed._

Anton and Emily stopped for a moment as Atoh pulled one of the caravan guards aside and pointed off towards the fortress, a worried expression on her face as she told him something in Draenic. He responded with a terse nod and walked briskly away, heading towards the front of the caravan.

"Just in case, I have told the other guards to be on alert as well." Atoh explained.

The atmosphere around the caravan slowly became more and more tense as it steadily plodded forward. Anguish Fortress loomed taller as it drew closer, the solid stone standing cold and immovable. Even as the caravan drew directly abreast from it there were still absolutely no signs of life from within. No people or creatures moving, no patrolmen raising the alert after spotting them, none of the routine sounds that one might expect out of a military base.

It was giving Anton some severe misgivings. Either all the orcs had left somewhere suddenly - unlikely - or there was some trickery afoot that he had no understanding of.

Still there was no choice but for them to continue onward, and that was exactly what they did. Each footstep, each turn of the wagon wheels was taking them further away from the fortress now.

Step after step. Turn after turn. In his state of alert, he was counting each one without even realizing it. He swept his head back and forth across the landscape but saw only empty plains in every direction except that of Anguish. The grass was tall, but he was sure it wasn't tall enough to hide an ambush.

_And still I just can't shake this feeling..._

"That was too easy, wasn't it?" He asked Emily grimly. "There's no way they just let us get away like -"

A pained scream from up ahead interrupted him, immediately drawing his attention, heightening his tension. The sounds of steel clashing followed, and a draenei shouted something. Anton's stomach fell.

"Ambush!" Atoh gasped. She took off at a sprint towards the source of the noise without another word.


	7. Intervene

Anton and Emily followed Atoh towards the fight without hesitating, pushing their way past the confused and scared draenei caravaneers. Even as he ran, though, Anton had a sense of trepidation roiling through him. He knew intuitively that his suspicions of foul play were on the mark. Within a scant few seconds, it already sounded as though a full-scale melee had erupted - there was no earthly way enough orcs to cause that much noise could draw close without a single person noticing. It simply wasn't possible - There was something more sinister at work here, making it so it was.

It meant he couldn't be sure what he was fighting. Any soldier would be nervous. He managed to draw level with Atoh and saw with a glimpse of her face the same nervousness he felt. Perhaps even moreso; there was something he couldn’t quite read on her face that was beyond a soldier's fear of the enemy. It almost reminded him of a cornered animal, like she was close to simply lashing out immediately at the first provocation.

Emily, on the other hand, seemed so eager for the fight that there was no room for nerves - or anything else. She barrelled past both him and Atoh, loping ahead at a pace he couldn't match. Either she hadn't made the same connection he and Atoh had, or she just didn't care.

The skirmish came into sight as Anton rounded the corner of one of the carts. There looked to be a dozen-odd orcs amassed, full of bloodlust - Somehow, they'd come from the opposite side that the fortress was on, without detection. The element of surprise was clearly on their side - only a fraction of the draenei defenders were present, and the orcs were running rampant. Whether by hastily enacted plan or sheer accident the guards had clumped up together to keep the fight from becoming a complete slaughter, slowly giving ground to keep themselves from being surrounded, hoping only to survive until the other guards arrived on scene. The orcs were showing no mercy; they had already brutally slain several of the defenders.

Anton struggled to push himself just a bit faster to their aid. He saw a draenei woman who was too slow to pull back, and knew what was about to happen before it did. An orc's diagonal axe swing bit deep into her shoulder, eating straight through her light armor and bringing up a spray of blood. She struggled for a moment, but only a moment, and the orc’s face lit up with malicious laughter as she fell limp and dropped her weapon.

The sight of it turned his stomach, but it seemed to spur the guards to take retribution. With a mighty overhead hammer swing one of the other draenei took their revenge, and his fellows pushed forward for a moment to cover him as he pulled his hammer out of the newly-made corpse.

_Good. They need to be killed. They need to be stopped._

Emily had already put that idea into action, giving a bloodcurdling howl as she charged toward the battle. She recklessly barged through a gap in the line, shoving the defenders aside and slamming shield first into the encroaching orcs. Her target toppled backwards as she smashed into him, knocking several of his fellows over and turning the enemies' baying cries of bloodlust into shouts of shock for a brief moment. Emily capitalized on the moment of chaos she caused, swinging her hammer overhead directly onto her first victim's skull with an audible crunch.

She immediately wrenched her now-gorestained weapon free and took aim at another. Anton knew the surprise would not last forever; he joined her with an immediate overhead swing at one of the downed orcs in the throng, aiming to keep them off guard for a little longer. His target managed to bring his axe up to deflect the blow and shuffled his way back out of reach. Before Anton could recover and take another swing, another orc stepped up to his kin's defence and forced Anton back with a flurry of harrying strikes. Next to him, Emily was ducking behind her shield to avoid similar retaliation. Their initial rush had bought them a small victory, but there were still many left to replace the ones that had been felled.

The draenei that Anton and Emily had pushed their way past stepped forward again, lending their weapons to the fray and covering their flanks. For Anton the fight became about little more than holding his shield up against the blows and prodding forward any time he saw an opportunity. His shield arm quickly started to lose feeling as he struggled to hold it up against the sheer strength of the orcish raiders.

Anton knew he was at a disadvantage. He considered himself a strong swordsman, but his enemies were far stronger. Any one of them could overpower him in close quarters - and close quarters was what the fight had become. They were clearly experienced fighters, as well; none of them was willing to overextend themselves in the cramped, un-coordinated melee and risk either getting in their allies' way or leaving themselves open to retaliation. That fact was probably the only thing keeping him alive.

_I should not have come here. I should not be out here._

Intervention came for him in the form of a booming whipcrack ringing through his ears and a tremendous, blinding flash of light directly in front of his eyes. He shouted out in pain and shock, covering his eyes and recoiling from the bright light. He dimly heard several other voices around him mirroring his pained cry, most of them orcish.

When he finally regained a modicum of sight and hearing he looked back to the fight and saw that the orc who had been directly against him was dead on the ground, a tremendous, clean score carved diagonally through his ribcage. It looked as though it was made by a greataxe, but far larger than any either he or his enemies could hold. Blood flowed freely from it to stain the grass around, and the draenei gladly capitalized on the suddenly faltering enemy lines. He used the moment of recovery to take stock of his surroundings and figure out what had just happened.

Anchorite Atoh immediately called his attention as he looked back towards the caravan. Her hooves were planted wide apart, an ensorcelling golden glow illuminating her whole body, spilling out to brighten the ground several feet around her. He could barely see her face through the light but for her eyes which radiated so intensely that he could swear he felt the image burned into his sight forever.

"See what I can do, you scum! The Light works through me!" She yelled, looking for all the world like a furious, avenging angel. "Back, you heathens! You scum!"

She drew her hands close to her chest, seemingly pulling the light out of her body as it concentrated around her hands. He could see her arms visibly shaking as the power began to crackle and spark, burning around her hands as it gathered in intensity.

The brightness became too much for him and he looked away just in time to hear another tremendous crack, this time accompanied by a vengeful shriek he could only barely recognize as Atoh's voice for all the anger it contained.

_It almost sounds like she's a completely different person._

He looked up again to see another orc fallen victim to her attack. This one was somehow still standing, lurching around as though his body didn't believe he was dead despite the massive wound cleaved through his chest and the waterfall of blood pouring down his front. He managed a few more clumsy steps before he fell wordlessly to the ground.

"Yes! See the power of the Light!" Atoh bellowed victoriously, spreading her arms wide in triumph. "I shall strike you all off the face of this -"

A sound like metal scraping against metal assaulted Anton's ears, so overwhelmingly loud that he had to cringe away and cover his ears again. Atoh's pomp turned into a scream of pain, and he managed to look up to see her staggering back. The bright aura that had previously surrounded her was now dimmed somewhat, but she appeared mostly unharmed by whatever had caused the noise.

Before she could recover, a tremendous spear made of inky blackness materialized from nothing, that screeching, scraping sound ringing out again as it stabbed against her. Anton feared that it would pierce right through her, but it failed to penetrate through the light that still shrouded her. She reeled back again as it made contact but rallied quickly, her face alight with anger.

"You scum!" She screamed again, voice wavering in her sheer fury. She thrust out her hand with another bright flash and resounding crack, returning fire at whoever had cast the spell.

Anton looked back to the melee, hoping to locate her attacker. It had been mere moments, but already the impromptu line of fighting had dissolved into disorganized skirmishes as one part gained ground and another lost it. Half of the orcs still seemed to be recovering from the bright light of Atoh's handiwork, and several of the draenei had their hands clapped over their ears against the grating sounds of the shadowy counterspells.

The caravan's defenders were starting to stream in and even the numbers out, forcing the orcs to back up slightly or be hemmed in, but it was still far from over. Emily was nowhere to be seen - Anton hoped against hope that she hadn't been felled while he'd been looking away.

One of the raiders seemed to have gotten the bright idea to put a stop to Atoh directly, but now found Anton directly in his way instead. Anton brought his shield up, more confident now that he was away from the fight proper. Here he had room to work, able to dodge and swing without fear. All he had to do was keep himself between the orc and Atoh, or at least keep up the threat of a blade in the bastard's back if he turned away.

The raider took a cautious first swing as he approached, but failed to strike Anton as he dodged backward. Anton's counter strike was equally fruitless as it met with the haft of his axe, and he was forced to step back again. His full set of plate hindered his movement somewhat - if the orc had rushed him, Anton likely would not have been able to avoid an overpowering swing - but that would give him ample opportunity to bring the orc down as well. His enemy seemed to know it, and didn't want to risk it.

Anton didn't wait for it to come, lashing out with a diagonal swing that the orc again deflected. His sword arm was sent away with a shove and a twist of the orc's weapon, but his shield was still up and ready. The orc took a hasty swing anyway, growling in frustration when it failed to get anywhere.

Anton kept a respectful distance from his opponent as they fought, sidling and dancing away from any strikes he didn't trust to his shield. He landed only a few glancing strikes on the raider's arms, slices and nicks that drew blood but didn't do any real damage. The orc, however, failed to land a proper strike at all between his defensive manoeuvres.

He smiled to himself behind his helmet - it was still a fight and could go bad at the drop of a coin as any fight could, but for now he was winning. Just by keeping the beast away from Atoh, he was winning. The thundering and grating noises of the magical duel she was conducting rang out behind him as he fenced the orc away from her, an ear-rending staccato that cut into his head but nonetheless told him he was giving her all the room she needed to work.

_This is my job._

His advantage only solidified as he heard a familiar screaming roar, and Emily joined his fight with an abrupt and brutal hammer swing to the unprepared orc's side. The orc staggered and howled as his ribs snapped under the weight of her strike, but he did not fall. He reflexively tried to cover his sudden injury with a free hand, but managed to keep a one-handed grip on his weapon. His eyes glinted with pain and anger, and Anton saw his axe arm tense for a retaliatory strike - but it was too far out for him to do anything.

Anton saw an easy opportunity and threw his weight into a direct stab. The orc had no chance with both his arms occupied, and Anton's blade sunk deep into his chest. At last the hulking raider dropped his weapon, the fatal wound taking its toll quickly. Anton drew his bloodstained blade back as the monster finally gave up and collapsed to the ground.

"Saw you having some trouble back here." Emily grunted, sidling around the felled orc to stand next to him as she looked cautiously back to the main melee. "What was all that before? Those noises? Felt like my head was going to split open."

"Atoh - A spellcaster, I think - He's attacking Atoh..." He huffed out, catching his breath.

"I don't know anything about fighting casters." She growled.

"Me neither. But we have to figure something out."

She stood up straight and surveyed the battlefield. "Well, where -"

Her question was answered before she even got to ask it when they heard Atoh's voice crying out in desperation. They both whirled around to see her on the backfoot, her hands wreathed in golden aura as she fended off an onslaught of shadowy spikes, weaving arcane patterns Anton didn't understand to ward them away.

They didn't have to look far to see who was behind it. A few dozen paces away there was not just one but a pair of orcish ritualists, their hands tremoring with exertion as they pulled their wicked magic into being. They were a male and a female, one standing taller than the other, and both clad in ceremonial robes that spun together sky blue and slate grey in swirling patterns reminiscent of the evening sky. There was something about them that made them somehow painful simply to look at, as though one's eyes were rejecting the sight before them.

Somehow they'd snuck their way around the fight, just like the ambush had snuck around the caravan. Anton's skin crawled as he realized what they were.

_Priests of darkness. Casters of the void._

Anton didn't hesitate - No matter how horrible, the foe was right before him, attacking his charge. He took off at full tilt, intent on gutting them before they could do any more damage. Emily was right beside him, her jaw set in a bloodthirsty snarl.

Halfway there the priestess saw them coming, her eyes opening wide in surprise. She hurriedly abandoned the spell she was casting, frantically backing away towards her larger cohort and preparing a new spell. A small glob of inky blackness gathered around her hand as she chanted something.

Anton raised his shield up without stopping his rush, trusting his steel to keep him safe. The orc thrust her hands out and he instantly recognized that he was about to pay for his gamble. Her spell took effect quickly, instantly blacking out his whole field of vision and making his whole body feel as heavy as lead - It was as though something was smothering him, stopping him from moving his limbs.

And then he couldn't feel anything. He couldn't see anything. He could barely hear anything. Some dreadful presence was weighing him down, numbing him, drowning everything out, shutting him off from the world around him, shutting him off even from his own body.

He strained as hard as he could, struggling defiantly against whatever force it was that had snared him, his heart pumping harder in desperation. He had to do something. He couldn't tell what was happening around him, and that was a death sentence in a fight. This monstrous thing he could barely sense had him forced down so thoroughly he may as well have been bound and gagged - He was all but at the orcs' mercy now. He thrashed blindly, madly, hoping that somehow he could force the darkness away before it was too late. Panic began to set in.

He heard a woman screaming far off in the distance, her voice distorted and broken. It was a scream of anguish and despair so great he felt as though it would worm its way into his chest and make him scream as well.

He heard a beast howling - It sounded like Emily's howl. Abruptly it was cut short, turning into a gurgle, and then dying out completely. His heart hammered harder, and he struggled again to move. He couldn't. He couldn't feel anything.

He heard something laugh softly, oily and malicious, dripping with self-assured confidence, stealing into his ear and reminding him of exactly how outmatched he was. Whatever it was had won this fight - It had won before he even arrived on Draenor, long before he was even born. He had no hope. He had no chance.

_It really was luck I lasted this long, wasn't it...?_

He had no idea how long he struggled, hoping and praying that whatever the thing was, it was lying to him. It had dulled his senses, but not his wits. He knew full well that the disgusting thing did not have his best interests at heart; if it could lie to him to make him lay down and die, why would it not?

It was that hope that he held onto. He needed to believe it, so he forced himself to. Emily wasn't dead. Atoh was fine. He wasn't surrounded, but he needed to pick himself up right now before he was. He thrashed as hard as he could, fervently ignoring the screams and the laughter still bouncing around in his skull.

Slowly, bit by bit, the murk began to lift. Through the darkness he could just barely begin to make out blurry colours and shapes in front of him. With a titanic effort he focused on the sight, willing it to get clearer.

Against all odds, it began to work. With a forceful blink, some semblance of clarity returned to his eyes at last. With a jolt he realized his limbs were his own again, and he could dimly hear the sounds of a battle raging some distance away.

Anton didn't skip a beat; he immediately reached for his weapon as he hauled himself up to a kneeling position. His arms and legs prickled painfully as sensation returned to them but he pushed through the feeling, certain that he was still in danger. He couldn't be certain how long he'd been out, but the fight was still going so he reasoned it couldn't have been too long.

A sudden yelp from just ahead cut through the lingering haze and drew his attention. He looked up to see Emily flopping bonelessly to the ground, face first, just a few paces shy of the void priests' position. Her hammer fell out of her hands and dropped to the ground next to her. Anton could just barely see a translucent veil of shadow covering her like a net as she hit the deck.

The male priest barked a command and pointed roughly at Emily's prone body before quickly returning to his spellwork. The other bared her teeth in a wicked grin as she reached into her robes and drew a stone knife. Something about it set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. It looked crude, but even from his distance he could see the dried blood caked on it.

The priestess made no secret of what she planned to do with it, making her way toward Emily with a confident, malicious air. Anton leapt to his feet and broke into a mad sprint, pain and fear forgotten in his rush.

_She's going to die, she's going to die, faster, you idiot, faster -_

Two deafening whipcracks resounded in succession, and the larger priest suddenly toppled to the ground with a roar of pain as his chest was rent open. The massive spray of blood that spattered on the orc priestess's back and Atoh's triumphant jeering drew her attention away, but only for a moment. Her zeal turned into panic instead as she saw her companion's demise, and she started running the rest of the way towards Emily, her sacrificial knife raised above her head.

_I'm not going to make it - wait -_

Anton had made the throw before he even realized what he was doing, hurling his sword at the priestess without heed for how much of a bad idea it was. A soldier without a weapon was a soldier waiting to die, but there was nothing else for it. It was the only thing he had.

Time slowed down for Anton as the sword span through the air. He could feel the impact of each step thudding through him as he desperately tried to keep pace with it. He hoped beyond hope that his aim was good as it arced heavily towards the orc, out of his control.

She looked up just in time to see it, but too late to stop herself from running into it. The hilt of it was about to impact her chest before it was stopped abruptly, the air around it warping strangely as whatever foulness she was shielding herself with held it away - for only a moment. The ethereal shield buckled with a dull pop and the sword finally slammed into her gut, breaking her stride and dropping her to her hands and knees. Even then, however, she wasn't done. She held her grip on her knife, and staggered to her feet after only a brief moment.

That was all the time Anton needed, though. He finally closed the distance and collided with her, knocking her to the ground as he fell on top of her. He didn't give her a moment to recoup, balling his hand into a gauntleted fist and driving it squarely into her face with as much force as he could muster.

He felt something give slightly beneath his hand and she immediately went limp underneath him. The knife fell out of her grasp, but somehow that still didn't reassure him.

_She might not be dead - She might be playing me - Who knows what she can do?_

Anton drew his hand back and struck her again for good measure, making sure she stayed down as he clambered up and retrieved his sword. He knew that it wasn't entirely rational, but he couldn't be sure. As far as he was concerned, she was still just as dangerous in this state.

He brought his sword up above her heart and plunged it down, the blade spiking straight through her chest. She jerked once, then was still again.

_Better not to leave it to chance._

Finally, Anton let himself relax just a little bit. The pair of them were both dead. There'd be no more of that horrible magic from either of them.

"A fine kill!" Atoh said encouragingly from behind him. He turned around and saw her kneeling down to attend to Emily, a soft gold glow playing around her hand. She looked a little ragged, but in high spirits judging by the smile on her face. "It's no more than those shadow-spawned bastards deserve."

"Is she going to be okay?" Anton asked as he trotted over to them.

"In as far as I can tell, yes." She said grimly, letting the light fade as she stood up. "I believe it is the same spell as you were hit with. She will be fine, for now."

"Can't you heal her?"

"I think I can. But, there is a more urgent matter that demands my attention." She gestured toward the fight, her smile morphing into a nasty grin that looked positively disturbing on her. "You keep an eye on her. Make sure none of them come this way. I will go and deal with the rest of these recreants."

This time the light she summoned to her hands was not a soft glow so much as a burning pyre as she stalked her way off towards the melee - or what little was still going. The orcs seemed to have fallen into disarray without their casters; most had fallen, some were fleeing, and only a few remained fighting.

Anton considered dragging Emily to a more defensible location, but put the idea out of his head. He had no hope of hauling her around while both she and he were in their full gear. Instead he stood guard over her out in the open, keeping an eye out for any orcs trying to skirt around the fight and hoping that she would wake up as quickly as he had.

Every so often he would hear the sound of Atoh's spells over the shouting and clashing of the fight, each resounding crack likely signalling the end of another orc now that there were no spellcasters around to stop her from working. Her unexpected proficiency in combat and moreover her sudden bloodthirst were somewhat alarming to him, but at least she was only killing orcs.

He doubted any of them would make it out to him, but still he remained on high alert. He checked each and every direction they might come from again and again, keeping his ears pricked for any sounds that might signal danger. He was still riding the adrenaline high of combat, breathing in deeply through his nose to calm himself and his racing heart, though it was starting to wear down now that he was out of the worst of it.

A victorious cheer went up from the draenei. The fight had finally come to an end, the last orc either killed or driven off. Anton looked down at Emily - the shadowy pall still covered her and her breathing seemed labored, but she was at least still breathing. He allowed himself a smile as well. It had gotten as bad as he'd feared it would, but they'd made it - even if they were both a little worse for wear. Now he just had to wait for her to wake up so he could rub how right he'd been about this stupid expedition in her nose.

Anchorite Atoh broke away from the celebrating group to rejoin him, now looking tired. "Well. That concludes the good work, I'm afraid. I found that somewhat enjoyable, with honesty."

"Enjoyable?" Anton asked disbelievingly. "The lot of us almost died!"

"Then we would have died pushing back the darkness! Did you not see the magic they used? Did you not feel it?" She shook her head grimly. "The Shadowmoon clan have truly lost their way to be channelling such a power, and it is my privilege to punish them for it - or die in the attempt, if I must."

Anton could only stare at her, agape. He hadn't taken her to be anywhere near so zealous. He might have said a little stubborn, sure, but this? Dying was a risk you ran in every fight you got into, but it wasn't something he wanted, and nor did he want to believe that she did.

"I thought... You said they were peaceful." He said, unable to think of anything else.

"Well, they have always been so. It is appalling that they would sink into shadow worship so quickly. It... begs belief." She sighed.

"'Beggars belief' is the phrase..." Anton corrected her dazedly. He looked down at Emily's still unconscious form. "What are we going to do with her?"

"Hm? Oh, we will have to get her into one of the wagons, for now. There is... less pleasant work still yet to be done before I can heal her." Atoh sighed heavily.

"What's that?"

She gave him a baleful look. "Those who gave their lives for ours cannot be neglected. But, there is no way we can give them the burial they deserve here. We will have to gather them and take them with us," She sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Take her to Faraan's wagon. Get him to help. I will join you when I can."

She left him with that, heading over to rejoin her people. Anton watched her go for a moment before he looked down at Emily again, realizing that he was once more going to have to pull her out of her armor before he had any hope of carrying her anywhere.

He knelt down wearily and started unstrapping her shoulder plates.

_Just going to have to hope she doesn't wake up and make it awkward, I guess._


	8. Second Wind

Anton sat in the back of Faraan's wagon, waiting for a sign that they were about to get moving again. It had taken him a while to haul Emily over, and almost as long again to collect and move her armor and her hammer. Easily twice that time had passed since he had sat Emily down in the cart's corner, but he didn't mind too much. The respite was certainly welcome after that kind of exertion. Nonetheless, he hoped the caravan would get rolling again soon. It would be better if they left the bloodied battlefield behind before any more orcs arrived.

He looked over at Emily again, checking that her breathing was still steady. He'd set her down on a crate in the corner across from him so he could keep an eye on her, and had noticed a steady improvement. The shadowy veil that had covered her had gradually dissipated until it was barely visible, but she still hadn't woken up.

_As long as she's not getting any worse, I suppose that's fine enough for now._

He let himself relax a bit as he listened to the constant rise and fall of her breathing, considerably louder than his own. The last few days had been tumultuous, to say the least. He had seen more action since he'd joined this stupid campaign than he would have in five or six months of patrolling in Stormwind, and the time not occupied by fighting was spent with a lingering shadow hanging over his shoulders.

He’d found no shortage of things to be worried about in Draenor so far, and this last fight had only added to the list. The voidpriest's spell had been the most disturbing thing he'd ever felt in his life. What kind of foe were they up against that could wield such power? And Atoh's reaction to it - If he hadn't known that screaming was her, he might have thought it was a banshee instead. Even the wildlife he'd seen were as dangerous as they were strange. What kind of place was this, exactly? Was he ever going to get to go home?

He was glad at least for Emily's constant presence. Conversing with her had helped keep those kinds of thoughts from surfacing, on those occasions she had decided to actually talk. It was easier to forget such things when you had someone to pass the time with.

_All said and done, she's not so bad. Just needs some time to get used to her._

He found his eyes drawn back to her sleeping form. In his introspective mood, he supposed he could admit to himself that he even found her appealing, in a way - Although maybe not so much now she was curled up unconscious in a corner, bearing the stink of blood and mud fresh off the battlefield. Even so she managed to cut a somewhat dignified figure, which he found impressive given the circumstances. Those were the marks of a day's work that most simply couldn't handle, and her wolf-like body bore them better than most.

It made a question crop up in the back of his mind: Was all this in spite of her beastly form, or because of it? He wasn't sure he liked that thought. He'd readily admit he liked her as a person. She was dependable, she was tough, she was personable enough - if a bit stuck-up sometimes. Despite all that, though, he still didn't want to confess to carrying a torch for a worgen. Not even to himself.

But, then again... She was still human as well, wasn't she? She'd showed him she could turn back into a human any time she liked. It made him wonder why she stayed as a worgen, if that was the case. Granted, being seven feet tall and inhumanly strong had its perks in their line of work, but that didn't account for the off hours. Maybe she didn't really think she was human anymore? He remembered she'd said something like that after she transformed in front of him, something about it not feeling normal or somesuch.

It was all a little strange to him. But he could concede that he liked her. He liked her a fair bit.

"Mmmh... Anton...? Is that... Is that you?" She surprised him with a quiet mumble, lifting her head off the wood it was resting on. He hadn't even noticed her stirring.

"Yeah, I'm here," He said reassuringly. "Been here the whole time."

"Nnnnnhh..." She squinted in bleary concentration, looking straight ahead instead of at him. Her eyes were all glazed over. "I thought... Thought you died..."

"What? No," He answered. "No, I'm fine. We won. You got knocked out by their magic or something, but -"

"That... That's not right. I thought..." She shook her head like a dog trying to clear its ears out and gave a few dazed blinks. "This is... Must be a trick."

_A trick? What the hell kind of trick does she think I'm trying to pull?_

Anton gawped for a moment before he recalled the effects of the voidpriest's spell; it had been like a nightmare, trying to deceive him into believing horrible things. He recalled the screaming, the sound that he'd been terrified was Emily's death rattle, and the voice that had laughed at him and lied to him so he wouldn't even try to get up. He'd fought it off, but she hadn't. The battle he'd won, she was still struggling with.

He hurried over to sit on the crate next to her, grasping her hand firmly without regard for her sharp claws. "Emily, listen. Whatever you saw, it wasn't real, okay? It was, uh..." He struggled to find a good word for it. "... A nightmare. It was just a nightmare, okay? We're all fine."

"Oh... That's..." Halfway through formulating her response she trailed off. Anton watched carefully as she drew in a shaky breath and her eyes started to droop shut. "... Good. Thought I'd never... see you..."

She dozed off completely again, but Anton was ready for it and caught her as she drooped forward. He gently sat her back up against the corner again, then stood up to leave, barely avoiding banging his head on the roof. She'd be fine for the minute; he needed to find Atoh and let her know what had just happened.

He jerked back in surprise as he swung the wagon door open to find her already on the other side, her hand outstretched to open it herself. She looked a lot more haggard than when he had last seen her, but after what he'd seen of her in the fight there was still something there that just set him on guard.

"Oh. Hey, good timing. I was just about to go looking for you." He said neutrally as he moved back to let her in.

"It would have done you no good. I could not leave the rites half spoken." She replied in a tired voice as she climbed into the wagon. "How is... er, your wolf friend? I... I do not know her name."

"What? Didn't she ever introduce you?" Anton was taken aback.

"No, she did not..." Atoh whispered gravely as she kneeled down next to Emily. "I... I have been careless, to not even ask... To think she went into battle for me, and I do not even know her name..."

"It's Emily." He supplied.

"Emily." She repeated. "I am... so glad you did not fall today. I have spent these last hours reciting the names of the fallen, that their sacrifice might be remembered in the Light. If you had been among them... when I did not even know your name? The shame of it..."

"You could have just asked me," Anton offered awkwardly.

"If you had fallen also?" Her head fell, and she covered her face with a hand. "No. No, I have not done right by you both. If nothing else, I should have asked before the ambush. Miller, yes? That is your name, I remember."

"Anton. Just Anton, is fine."

"Anton." She repeated again, as though committing it to memory. "I am sorry. This is a mistake I will never make again."

"It's... fine." Anton assured her. He wasn't entirely certain how he was supposed to respond. He didn't have any inkling as to the names of the fallen. He wasn't even sure if that was something he was supposed to be feeling bad for. "Look, uh... I was just coming to get you because she woke up for a moment. Can you do anything for her?"

Atoh turned her attention to Emily. "I do not know if I have the energy, now. The battle, the rites... They were more draining than I thought." She admitted. "If... If the need is urgent, I can, but I would prefer to not risk a mistake."

Anton nodded in agreement and sat down as Atoh took a seat beside Emily. Her hand took on a faint, pale glow as she gently gripped the worgen's shoulder, and her face scrunched up in tired concentration. Emily stirred slightly in response, but did not wake. Anton wondered exactly what it was she was doing, but knew better than to break her focus by asking.

Before too long Atoh let go again, leaning back against the wall in exhaustion. "She will be fine, for now. The orcs' foul magic still lingers, but she is in no danger... You said that she woke up earlier, yes? Did she say anything?"

Anton let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yeah. Yeah, she did. She was saying some weird stuff, but she fell right back asleep after. She thought we were all dead, or something."

"I thought so. It is mind altering magic. I know some of this - The Light gives us power to soothe and pacify troubled minds." Atoh explained with a grimace. "But the Shadow perverts the Light's gifts, as it always does. It chooses to invent troubles where there are none."

"It felt like I was having a nightmare." Anton remembered. "A nightmare where I couldn't move, or see anything. I sort of - I knew it wasn't real, you know? I don't know how, but I just did. But, it still felt so..."

"... So real." Atoh finished for him with a tone of disgust. "Yes, I don't doubt it. It is absolutely vile magic."

Anton gestured towards Emily. "How come she still hasn't woken up? I shrugged it off after like a minute or so."

"I cannot say, with honesty." Atoh admitted with a sigh. "Perhaps it was simply a weaker spell, or a weaker caster. Perhaps they did not focus properly when they hit you. For all I know, it could simply be that you were protected by the Light - we still do not understand its mysteries, ourselves. There are many reasons possible."

"You can still heal her though, right?" Anton asked nervously.

A yell from outside interrupted them, immediately making Anton tense up. He had to force himself to relax again as the wagon slowly lurched into motion and he realized it was just Faraan urging the talbuk into action.

_We're finally on the move again._

"Yes, I am certain I can. But... Tomorrow." Atoh answered as she leaned back against the wagon. "When we reach Embaari Village and I am rested enough, I will heal her. If she has not... shrugged it off by then, as you say it. For now, though, I need to sleep."

"Right. Alright." Anton hoped Emily wouldn't suffer too much as a result. The short nightmare he'd had was bad enough, to have it for a day straight or more would have been torture.

"You should sleep, as well," Atoh said quietly as she closed her eyes. "We are safe now. No sense in worrying more."

Anton wasn't sure if he would actually be able to. It wasn't that he was not tired, so much as that he felt he was still too wound up. Nonetheless he slowly stripped himself of his armor and tried to settle in.

Slowly, as the wagon trundled on and Atoh started to snore, he found his own head starting to loll back. The rest of his body was working hard to convince his brain that he needed to sleep and reminding him of how he really had nothing else to do anyway, but it was putting up a decent fight with its own argument that it just didn't want to.

He wasn't sure who was winning the argument when he finally nodded off.

* * *

* * *

Faraan and the rest of the merchants had camped the wagons just outside the village, still setting up their stalls and displaying their wares as the caravan guards saw to the dead. It was a bit grim, but there wasn't much to be done about it. The living still had their business to attend to.

Anton, meanwhile, had nothing to do but sit and wait for some news. He had left his armor with Faraan in his wagon, and helped Atoh bring Emily into a room the innkeeper had cleared for her and the other wounded. After that, however, she had bid him simply stay out of the way and let her and the few other Anchorites who were in town do their work.

So he ended up sitting on an ornate bench that he'd first mistaken as mere decoration, fidgeting and forcing himself to just be glad he was getting a break. It was usually an easy thing for him to do; he couldn't wrap his head around why he was having such an issue with it now. He felt like he should be doing more to help out, even though he knew there wasn't any more for him to do.

Maybe it was to do with Emily in particular. She'd been taking up more of his thoughts lately than he cared to admit, and he couldn't understand why. He felt like he should be doing something more to help her.

_Why am I even thinking about her so much? I've only known her for a few days - Or I think it's a few days._

He'd never met anyone in the Stormwind Guard who could have matched her skill, her moxie, or her sheer strength. He hadn't been sure if he'd liked her at first, but no matter how harsh and arrogant she'd seemed, she'd still warmed up to him eventually. The fight in the mine - the worst moment he'd seen of her - had opened his eyes to someone hiding their fear and vulnerability behind a higher wall than he ever had.

_No family, no home - No wonder she was clinging to her pride so hard._

He thought he had been lucky so far, to have escaped from all the fights he'd been in so far with only minor injuries - But maybe it hadn't only been luck. When he and Emily had fought together, both he and she had walked away unscathed on each occasion, if a little bit unconscious in her case this time. It was as though they just complemented each other, covering each other's weaknesses at the exact moment they needed to be. He felt like he could depend on her - like that as long as they were fighting together, they were both going to be okay.

_None of the girls back in the Guard fought anywhere near as hard as she does._

And no matter how hard he tried to deny it, there was something appealing about her... on a more physical level. Her fur and her mane weren't exactly conventional, but they gave her a look like that of an apex predator - strong and cunning. The sight of her covered in blood and gore, fangs and claws out, had been one of the most fearful things he'd seen - but the few genuine smiles he'd seen out of her in the few times she was genuinely relaxed were almost enough to melt his heart on their own.

_She's pretty when she's not showing her teeth, and scary when she is. I feel like I shouldn't like that, but..._

When he thought about it, he realized he couldn't really remember anything of her human appearance except that she had black hair. For all intents and purposes, she might as well not be human to him at all. She was a beast of a woman - but a proud, powerful beast that commanded respect instead of fear.

Maybe even a bit more than respect, if he was honest with himself. She'd been good to him, and she was even kind of sweet in her own way. She was definitely an uncommon woman.

_I hope she's doing alright._

It burned him up that she might still be suffering, but there was nothing for it bar distracting himself. For a while he tried to find some interest in watching the draenei of the village walking to and fro as they went about their daily lives. Most of them gave him curious looks as they passed, clearly intrigued by the newcomer in their midst.

He couldn't guess how much time had passed, but it felt like hours before Atoh at last emerged from the inn, hailing him with a small wave and a tired smile.

"Is Emily okay?" He asked urgently.

"She is recovering. I have banished the spell as best I can," Atoh answered gently. "It is an ill sign that it was so stubborn, so long after it was cast. Such a resilient curse suggests much practice in casting it. Perhaps the Shadowmoon have been consorting with the darkness for longer than we realized."

"But, Emily?" He pressed, trying to keep her on track. He really couldn't care less what some orcs were doing right now. "Is she going to be okay or not?"

"I believe so. She is strong, so I do not fear terribly for her, but still... Truly, only time will tell." Atoh said. Perhaps sensing that she wasn't being very reassuring, she continued. "Do not despair. Her light burns too brightly for that dark magic to ever engulf."

Anton threw out his arms helplessly. "I hope you're right. I just wish I could do something."

"There's no sense in worrying yourself so. All that can be done has been done. She and the others who were wounded will be fine, I believe. There will be no more bodies to entomb today." Atoh sat down next to him on the bench, running a hand through her hair and heaving a fretful sigh. "Faraan tells me the dead are being prepared for transportation to Auchindoun. Their names will be remembered forever there."

"That's... good. Isn't it?" Anton asked uncertainly.

"Of course it is, but... I wish I could have done more. I recited all the prayers I know for them before, but I am not a soulpriest. It will be they who finish the rites I started." She said softly. "Ordinarily, I would travel to Holy Karabor and seek the names of the families in our ledgers. They deserve to be informed of their loss."

Anton nodded his agreement. "That they do."

"Still, I fear this battle is only the first of a great war. There will be more deaths yet, but I am trained enough that I should be there to prevent them. So... I have instead delegated my task to one of the Observatory Anchorites."

"What are you going to do instead?" Anton asked.

"I will be returning with you to your garrison, and I will pledge myself there to your Alliance's cause." She said with a proud smile. "It was my honor to stand on the battlefield with you, Anton Miller. You, and Emily as well. You both are not draenei, but still I would argue with the soulpriests for your memory in Auchindoun. You both fought in our defence. Your Alliance fights in our defence. I would be remiss if I did not fight with you."

She extended her hand toward him. He still felt some reservations about her, but he had to admit he'd never been praised so highly when he was in the Stormwind Guard.

_More dangerous it may be, but perhaps this army business isn't without its perks._

Anton smiled as he reached out with his own hand and chuckled wryly as they shook. "To think I thought you were just a stubborn nurse when we met."

"Ah, yes. That is something I am trained for, also." She laughed in return.

She was a strange one, that was for certain. Stranger even than Emily, in fact - but he had a sincere respect for her nonetheless. In Anton's experience, it was hard not to respect someone you'd fought with, and it gladdened him to know the Anchorite shared the sentiment.

Still, she wasn’t exactly who he wanted most to see in that moment. He shot a quick look into the inn as the thought of Emily crossed his mind.

"So, is she alright for me to go in and see her?" He gestured toward the building as he asked.

"Perhaps. I will take you to her, and we will see. If she still sleeps, then we should leave her to rest." Atoh stood up off the bench, gesturing for him to follow her as she trod away into the inn.

It was a richly decorated place, with blue curtains and carpets covering up the bricks of the walls and floor until they were barely visible. Anton followed Atoh closely through the establishment as they weaved through the draenei occupying it. Besides the patrons one might expect, it was also packed with both Anchorites tending to the wounded and guards from the caravan either visiting them or assisting the healers. One of the guards recognized him, giving him a respectful nod as he passed.

Truthfully Anton wanted to push past Atoh and lead the way - he already knew where Emily was, he'd helped haul her in. He was unwilling to override Atoh when she'd already offered, however.

As they reached Emily's door, Atoh stopped in front and held a hand out to bar the path. "Quiet now, please. If she still sleeps, we should not disturb her."

He nodded his agreement, and Atoh pushed open the door. He was surprised to find Emily lying on a bed of polished wood and silk blankets that were probably too expensive for him to even be looking at, let alone ever sleep on.

She turned to look at them as soon as they entered, clearly awake and alert. He was glad to see that she was doing a lot better already, her eyes having regained their usual yellow glow and the tangible shadow that had darkened her brown fur now absent. A wide smile spread across her muzzle as soon as she caught sight of him.

"Hey," She rasped before clearing her throat. "Anton. You're alive after all."

"That's kind of funny coming from the woman who's spent the last day or so unconscious." Anton laughed. He couldn't keep the smile off his face, either. "I'm glad you're okay, Emily."

"Yeah, me too. Felt like I was having a really long nightmare, or something. Kept... seeing things." She trailed off with a shudder.

"There is no need to speak of it anymore. That nightmare is over. You are safe, now." Atoh assured her firmly. "Tell me how you are feeling."

"Better, but a little weird," Emily admitted. "Still can't figure out exactly what I dreamed and what was real. It's like I was there a dozen times in a row, I just... feel weird not knowing what actually happened."

"It would not do you well to dwell on it. Still, if you are certain you wish it -" She turned to Anton expectantly. "Perhaps you could explain to her what has transpired. I do not want to offend, but I am learned in healing, not in counselling. It would be better that I spent my time tending to the others."

"Sure. No offense taken." Anton agreed. It was true that her bedside manner left a fair bit to be desired.

"Excellent. Come find me if you need anything." Atoh left them with that, shutting the door behind her with a click.

Emily sat up straighter in bed and shuffled back to make room as she beckoned him over. "Come on, come sit. What did I miss? How long have I even been out?"

Anton was reluctant to comply, suddenly nervous to get in close proximity with her for a reason he couldn't quite explain. He acquiesced nonetheless, sitting down awkwardly next to her on the bed as he spoke.

"Just about a day, I think. You woke up for a little bit at one point, back in the wagon, do you remember?"

The fur on her forehead scrunched up as she squinted in concentration. "... No, I don't think so. I just remember... A lot of bad stuff. The fight..." She shuddered. "I thought you died. I thought... I kept thinking I died. It doesn't even make sense, but..."

"Don't worry yourself. We're fine now. It's all fine." He said confidently. "I know what you mean, though. They did the same thing to me, but I don't think it was anywhere near as bad as what you got."

"The nightmare, you mean? You had it as well?" She asked. "Did... Did you see the same thing I did?"

"I didn't see much of anything," Anton confessed. "It was like there was this black fog covering everything. But I heard... Well, I thought I heard you guys dying, but at the same time I knew it wasn't real, you know?"

"That... That's nothing like what I had." She said shakily. "It was like a nightmare, but... It was the same one over and over and over. I had this feeling the whole time like I'd been there before. I remember like a dozen different things happening at the same time. You died, I died... Everyone..."

"It's okay," Anton insisted, taking her massive hand in his own. "None of it was real. We're all okay."

"What actually happened?” She asked, her voice a little hesitant but still curious. “I know it can’t have been anything bad, since we’re both here... I just still want to know."

"Well - I went down, I got up right as you went down... Atoh killed the big nasty one, but... Well..." Anton trailed off. Any other occasion it would have been the perfect time for some pomp, but it felt wrong for him to brag to her about something so serious.

She gave him a nervous look. "Well, what?"

"Well... The other one was going to stab you, but I ran in and I got her first." He finished lamely.

She was silent for a second, an outright unsettled look upon her face as she turned away. "That's... A really disturbing thought. I guess I... I never really thought I might die without even being able to do anything about it."

Anton didn't say anything. Truthfully, that wasn't something he'd ever considered either. He'd tried to keep himself away from such morbid thoughts at all, but now that he was thinking about it, he realized he'd always assumed he'd go down swinging.

That was his job, if it came down to it. It was just an aspect of it that was better left unsaid.

"I'm grateful," Emily said awkwardly, recalling his attention. "I mean... Thanks. I just... Well, I'm glad you did, you know."

"Don't worry about it, right? I know you'd do the same for me." He shrugged. "It's just like we said, isn't it? Long as we look after each other, we'll be alright."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." She gave a wan smile. "Still, thanks."

"Don't worry about it." He repeated as he took his hands away from hers, suddenly aware he had been holding onto it for way too long. Despite that, he still felt slightly reluctant to pull away. "... Anyway, after that I took you to Faraan's wagon. You woke up for a moment, but you fell back asleep right after."

"I think I remember hearing you talking to me at one point. I don’t really remember anything else, except you said we were all okay. Was that then? In the wagon?" She asked slowly. Anton nodded, prompting her to continue. "I wasn't even sure if it was real or I just wanted to pretend it was, but when I heard you... "

She was looking right at him, but once again he didn't know what to say. He looked up to meet her gaze, fumbling for something that wasn't a quip or a joke or horribly awkward.

His efforts died on his lips. As he met her gaze he saw in her eyes the same odd spark that had captivated him the other day, and just as before it was working his magic on him in the same way. Everything else was suddenly irrelevant - the more he looked, the more wanted to look.

He knew she felt it too. Just like last time, she was staring so intently in a way that probably should have unsettled him, but only further interested him. There was something between them, he was certain of it now. He only had to look a little closer to find it.

When his nose bumped into hers it was to both their shock. He hadn't noticed exactly how close he'd been looking, and the sudden widening of her eyes told him that she hadn't either. A tiny part of him was gratified that she was just as uncertain, just as lost in what they were doing as he was.

But she didn't pull back.

Their lips were mere inches away. What little of his brain hadn't suddenly fuzzed over recognized that it was a kiss. They were just about to kiss, if he only moved forward again just a tiny smidge -

She surprised him when she suddenly shut her eyes, tilted her head just slightly, and came forward to meet him instead. Her wolfish muzzle met his lips with a caution that he was grateful for; he still had enough common sense about him to be wary of her teeth.

He slowly allowed his guard to fall as he found himself compelled to return the kiss, closing his eyes and opening his lips to her, eager to explore in a way he could scarcely believe of himself. It was as though the spark he knew had been there for a while was now suddenly alight and consuming him utterly.

_I do want her._

Blind to the world with his eyes shut, his other senses were working in overdrive and focused solely on her. He could swear that he felt each brush of the fur of her muzzle against his chin, a stark contrast with her soft lips. With each of her movements he heard the faint whispers of her clothes shifting just slightly, and the sharp intake of her breathing nestled in his eardrums louder than the blood pounding through his head. Each inhale brought in the strangely reassuring scent of her fur a little stronger than the last; traces of dust from the road and mud from the battleground still lingered, combined with an element that he couldn’t put a name to but which was distinctly and familiarly hers.

He didn’t realize he was shifting up closer to her on the bed until he was halfway through the act of doing it, and only barely consciously at that. She brought her long arms around him, pulling him in gently and holding him close. Pinpricks from the tips of her claws against the back of his shirt sent a shiver up his spine and made him reflexively push in a little closer as he wrapped his arms around her in return.

For a brief while, the whole world around them seemed muted. Nothing mattered for Anton except for her; she was something perfect in that instant, something that demanded his complete attention, and he was at that moment happy to give it to her.

Finally they pulled away to catch their breath, leaning back just far enough that Anton could look up to meet her golden eyes. She bore a somewhat dazed expression, her tongue hanging out slightly as she panted. The sight of her massive fangs just a few inches away from his face should have been one that took him right out of the mood, but somehow he found it only added to the thrill.

_She’s just a cute little puppy underneath the surface._

Her attention snapped back onto him as he made to move in again, before the reverie was disrupted by the sound of the door loudly creaking open behind them.

Instantly the moment was broken. Both he and Emily frantically disentangled their arms and shoved themselves away from each other, doing their best to not look guilty. He turned himself to face the door just in time to see Atoh recoil in shock.

“Prophet’s name!” She sputtered an oath, nearly dropping the rolled-up blanket she had been carrying beneath one arm. “Were you – Did you – Were you two –“ She tried for a few moments more to speak her mind before dissolving into a stream of what Anton could only presume was Draenic swearing.

“No. We weren’t doing anything,” Anton said, his voice an iota louder than he intended in his embarrassment.

Emily seemed to be a little less abashed than he was, her tone one of levity as she backed him up. “No, he’s right, we weren’t doing anything. It was just a hug, see?”

“I know eloping when I see it!” Atoh yelled, an angry flush colouring her face a deeper blue as she pointed aggressively with her free hand. “The nerve of it! Such – Such debauchery, on a bed given in goodwill for her convalescence, and while she’s still recovering, no less!”

Anton held his hands up placatingly. “We weren’t –“

“Out, Anton Miller!” She overrode his attempt at a defence with a thundering shout and an assertive gesture towards the door. “To think I was just singing your praises! I expected better! Out!”

“It wasn’t anything serious –“ Anton fumbled.

“Out!”

She sounded almost as ferocious now as Emily did when she was in the thick of a fight. Anton could practically feel himself shrinking under her condemning glare.

_Alright, I’m man enough to admit when I’ve lost._

He left without further argument, scurrying around her and out of the room before the situation could escalate any more than it already had. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled nervously as he felt Atoh’s fiery eyes tracking him the whole way. Only once he’d slunk completely out of the room and shut the door behind him did he feel any kind of relief.

Anton hadn’t met very many healers. There were a few medics and priests rostered on in the Guard, but not many. He knew his limited experience didn’t give him much insight on the matter, but before meeting Anchorite Atoh, he had developed an expectation that a healer would cultivate a less volatile temperament than she did. He could only hope that she was just an exception to the rule.

He felt a spike of sympathy for Emily as he walked away from the room. The closed door did very little to muffle the sound of Atoh’s raised voice as she started up again.

* * *

* * *

Without anywhere else in particular to go Anton ended up back on the bench outside, watching the draenei come and go. Every so often one of them would shoot him a curious or even nervous glance, clearly a bit wary of the strange-looking outsider in their midst, but Anton paid them little heed. His mind was elsewhere, endlessly replaying the last few moments with Emily in his head.

It had singlehandedly been more exciting than any of the other relationships he’d been in, he had to admit - and it was only a single, simple kiss. When he tried to, he found he couldn’t recall anything at all about the last girl he’d been with, not even something as simple her hair color. There was something about Emily that made all others seem irrelevant, easy to forget. Something about her just set him off like not one other had, no matter how much he’d previously tried to deny it. Just one kiss had blown everything he thought he’d been sure of out of the water.

Exciting it certainly was, but by the same token it also brought him to a state of discomfort. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that a massive wolf monster set him off like that, and even discounting that notion he couldn’t quite get rid of the niggling thought that they might have moved a bit too fast. The pair of them had only even known each other for a few days, after all. For a one night stand it was a bit on the slow side, but if they wanted any kind of relationship bigger than that, it was blazing fast.

_Are we going about this wrong? Should we even be doing this? What is she supposed to be to me, exactly?_

Lost in his thoughts, he hardly noticed the sound of approaching footsteps until they had already walked right up and sat down on the bench next to him. When he looked up he was surprised to see none other than Emily herself, a happy smile on her face as she nudged his shoulder gently.

“Hey,” She said softly. “What are you doing out here, moping all alone?”

“No, it’s more just that I don’t really have anywhere else to be,” Anton found himself smiling too as he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Did Atoh let you out already?”

“Nah. She doesn’t know I’m out here.” Emily said breezily.

Anton quirked an eyebrow. “Really? That’s... brave.” He couldn’t say he had anywhere near that kind of willingness to risk her wrath again.

Emily just scoffed in response. “It’s not like I’m dying or anything. My legs work just fine. I’ll just tell her I needed to get some fresh air or something.”

“And you reckon she’ll buy that?” He asked skeptically.

“I reckon I don’t really care.” She said with a short laugh. Before he could say anything in response she leaned right over and rested her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice out here. Nice and relaxing.”

“Yeah... Yeah, it is nice,” He answered slowly, unsure what to make of her sudden forwardness. Hesitantly he leaned his own head in against hers. “Well, it would be nice, anyway, if not for –“

“Oh, shush.” She said with a tone of gentle reproach. “No need to remind us of the orcs again. We’ll deal with that when we have to. Just enjoy the nice evening, won’t you?”

“Alright, alright.” He laughed ruefully. “Sorry. You’re right. It is pretty nice.”

She chuffed out another short laugh. “That’s better.”

The weight and warmth of her head leaning on his shoulder was disarmingly pleasant, and though he was nervous of Atoh finding them he was unwilling to pull away. He tried to push that possibility to the back of his mind, focusing on Emily alone and enjoying the moment just as she’d advised.

Abruptly she ended the embrace, leaning back up and casting her eye down upon him. “You’re way too short for this. I’m going to get a crick in my neck.” She said in a lightly mocking tone.

“I’m not short, you’re just really tall.” He protested.

“Same difference. Here, I got an idea.” She looped an arm around him to drag him in close. “You put your head on my shoulder instead. That way I won’t have to lean down so far.”

He found himself more amused by the way she was manhandling him than anything else. “Are you having fun there?” He asked as she gently tried to push his head into position.

“Oh, quite.” She snickered. “Come on, don’t be so stubborn. Get your head over here.”

“Alright, alright.” He acquiesced, trying to front up a tone of long-standing suffering as he shuffled up against her. She immediately planted her head down against his, her fur brushing through his hair gently. It was a strange reversal, but still kind of nice in a way.

Caught up in the moment with her, he had completely forgotten that they were out in public where anyone could see them – until he caught a glimpse of a passing draenei sending a particularly inquisitive gaze their way before hurriedly looking away. Now solidly brought back down to earth, Anton realized how much of an odd couple they must look like, especially to these draenei.

_At least there’s not many people out and about, I suppose. Cold comforts._

It also brought to mind a more important question he had to ask. “... Emily?”

“What?”

“Are we... Is this...?” He stumbled, trying to find the exact words he wanted. “Are we... a thing, now?”

“Well, I would have said so.” She sounded like she was joking at first, but after a breath she seemed to realize something from what he was saying. “... Unless that wasn’t what you wanted?”

“No, no, it was,” He reassured her quickly. “It is. That wasn’t what I meant. I was just wondering something.”

“What’s that?” She asked softly, tousling his hair a bit as she shuffled slightly.

“Do we want anyone to know about this?” He asked seriously. “When we get back to the garrison, I mean. If Montoy hears about it, we’d probably be screwed. And then there's when we get back to Stormwind as well...”

In the Stormwind Guard, men and women were expected to work together, of course. But such relationships becoming anything more than professional was discouraged heavily – the Guard had a reputation to maintain. Despite that, they would still happen occasionally – but were usually followed by a demotion or discharge if the captain found out.

For a few moments, the rhythmic motion of the worgen’s breathing was her only answer. When she finally answered, her tone was careful and guarded. “I don’t know. I didn’t think of that.”

“Well, I just think maybe we should keep it quiet. At least for while we’re at the garrison. It would be hard to get away from the gossip there. People would probably think we’re... weird.”

_I can already hear the guys back in the Guard laughing at me. ‘You like them furry, huh?’... Pass._

“Maybe you’re right. Light knows that I get enough people thinking that already.” She sighed. “I don’t think I’d want it to be a secret forever though.”

He nodded gently, trying not to disturb her by moving his head too much. “I guess we’ll just see what happens if we make it back to Stormwind. Or at least when we get away from Montoy.”

“And Atoh as well,” Emily said with sudden mirth. “You should have heard the things she was saying after you left. Honestly, it was hard to take her seriously.”

“Really? I don’t have that problem at all,” Anton shuddered, thinking back to the sight of her on the battlefield. “I heard enough to get the message, I think.”

“She sounded like my old grandma. ‘How could you sink to such depravity’, ‘I expect you to conduct yourself more properly from now on’... I seriously had to stop myself from laughing.” She chuckled.

“I think she might have a bigger stick up her ass than some of the preachers back home. I was starting to think she was alright, too,” Anton grumbled. “I’m just going to try and stay away and not piss her off for a while. Last thing I need is a massive hole in my chest like what those orcs got.”

“I wouldn’t worry. I’m pretty sure she’s not that crazy,” Emily reassured him. “She said she wants to keep an eye on me until at least tomorrow, and after that we’ll probably be leaving.”

“Great, so I won’t be able to get away from her,” Already he was dreading the ordeal.

Emily lifted her head up to look him in the eyes, a bemused expression on her face. “You always find a way to look at the worse side of things, do you know that?”

“Well, you know how it is.” He shrugged, pulling his own head away as well. “Someone’s got to keep everyone getting carried away. Might as well be me, right?”

“If you say so.” She said as she stood up off the bench. “I’d probably better head inside, anyway, before she notices I’m gone.”

Anton smirked. “See? Even you sound worried.”

“I do not.” She waved his claim off as she walked away. “I’ll see you later, Anton.”

“Yeah, see you.”

Anton watched her go, unable to keep his gaze entirely innocent as he caught sight of her hips swaying as she walked. He couldn’t tell if she was doing it on purpose or not, but its effect on him was undeniable either way, and he found himself shamelessly ogling.

_Damn. And to think I never noticed that._

Before those thoughts could go any further he clamped down on them, trying to force himself to have some self control and put it from his mind. He was going to have to spend a long-ass time walking with her – and a chaperone – tomorrow. Given how pissed off Atoh already was with him, he did not need it to be any more complicated than that. At least not until they were well away from her, at any rate.

Anton picked himself up off the bench, deciding that he may as well pass the time by getting some sleep. He wasn’t going to go anywhere near the inn, not by a long shot – but maybe Faraan would let him kip in the wagon. As far as Anton was concerned, a bedroll for the night wasn’t too much to ask for from a guy you’ve been risking your life for.


	9. Shared Respite

The return trip from Embaari Village had been the longest walk of Anton’s life, but thankfully it would soon be coming to a close. Lunarfall Garrison was coming into sight ahead of them, bringing an anticipatory spring to his step despite his aching legs. Atoh had set a furious pace the whole way, stopping only once for a much too brief repast. Anton was certain she was driving them as hard as she could either to punish them or exhaust them. Or both.

He and Emily were hanging back behind Atoh slightly, matching her furious pace but staying just far enough away that they could talk. Every so often she would look over her shoulder and shoot the pair of them filthy looks.

“You’d think we’d... I don’t even know. Killed her dad or something, the way she’s acting,” Anton groused quietly. “I should have brought that damn drink along. Might have made this trip a bit more bearable.”

“Well, I still think it’s better that you didn’t. They’d kick our arses if we were drinking on the job, ‘specially when we’re already barely working as it is.” Emily replied under her breath. She looked slightly rueful as she said it, though – he had a feeling she wouldn’t turn down a drink if they’d had one to hand. “We’re supposed to be walking abreast of her, you know.”

“Yeah, no. I’ve got this feeling like she’d skin us both alive if we got that close.” He said frankly.

“We’re just gonna have to risk it, unfortunately.” Emily said with a resigned sigh. “It ain’t going to be good if they catch us lagging behind like this. Come on... Gotta do it before we reach the gate.”

She forged ahead without waiting for a response, leaving Anton to reluctantly follow her. Thus far he’d managed to avoid slinging too many words with Atoh, but it seemed like it might be inevitable now.

She didn’t waste any time as they drew near, laying into them icily without breaking stride. “Ah, there you both are. I had thought I was being followed by gossiping children instead of bodyguards.”

“We weren’t gossiping,” Anton defended himself. “We were just... you know, concerned for our safety.”

“Oh, do not tempt me...” Atoh glowered. “I still cannot believe the nerve of either of you.”

“Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s even any of your business. It was just a kiss.” Anton immediately regretted the words as Atoh rounded on him, dust swirling around her ankles with the sheer force of her anger.

“I know full well that you two are not married before the Light, Anton Miller!” She growled. “You are lucky a kiss is all it was, else you would not have survived this walk!”

“You can’t be serious. Is that what this is about?” Sheer disbelief kept him talking despite Atoh’s cantankerous expression and Emily’s concerned glance.

“Yes, that is what this is about!” The Anchorite thundered, pointing warningly at him. “I will say this just once. You had best keep your hands to yourself, Anton Miller, or I will be very displeased with you. Both of you.”

Anton was about to retort again that it was none of her business, but the sight of Emily behind her giving him a meaningful look and a shake of her head gave him pause. Given a second to think about the situation, he realized it was probably for the best. He had tempted fate enough already.

They spent the last leg of the walk in tense silence. As the gates drew near Anton found himself trying to process how anyone could be such a bloodthirsty zealot while at the same time being such a prude.

_Maybe the Light starts screwing with your head if you get too much of it in there._

The guards at the gate hailed them as they approached, and set them to an awkward wait while one of them went to fetch Captain Montoy. He didn’t recognize either of them, but he was sure he’d probably seen them in the barracks before.

Thankfully Montoy did not keep them waiting long, sparing him the further awkwardness of having to make conversation with them. The captain’s arrival prompted a nigh-automatic salute out of Anton and Emily, but he quickly brushed off such formalities.

“At ease,” He said as he reached them. “Welcome back, you three. How went the trip?”

“We were ambushed by the Shadowmoon clan. They have truly cast their lot in with the Iron Horde.” Atoh answered grimly. “Several brave men and women gave their lives for the defence, but we slew the orcs to the last.”

“That’s a troubling development. I’d hoped we’d have a bit longer before they found us,” Montoy grimaced.

“It may not be that they have. In as far as I can tell, they were only after the caravan.” Atoh shrugged and shook her head. “I have already sent warnings to Holy Karabor and made arrangements for the fallen. Your guards fought brave and true on our behalf, and so I decided I would return and pledge myself to your cause – but I would speak to you about their etiquette off the battlefield...”

She shot Anton another withering glare at this, prompting Montoy to follow with his own disapproving look. “Really? What did they do?”

“It is perhaps best suited for a private discussion,” Atoh answered, still glowering. “I think it would do you wise to place this pair of lechers on separate shifts, however.”

_‘Pair of lechers’? Excuse me?_

Anton took in a deep breath, struggling to keep from voicing his outrage at the unfair judgment, and the even less fair penalty she wanted to impose. He knew by now that it would do him no good to try and talk Montoy down. He would just have to keep his discipline and hope that the good captain would see sense.

He chanced a quick look at Emily and saw her standing straight backed and stoic, facing impassively forward as though Atoh had said nothing at all. He tried to mimic her form as he returned his attention to Captain Montoy, meeting his appraising eyes with the most impassive stare he could muster.

“I see. We’ll discuss it later, then,” Montoy said with a clipped voice. “Meantime, the Commander was expecting a report as soon as you arrived, particularly if something like this happened. Either the Iron Horde is already hot on our trail or the orcs here are just stepping up operations on their own. Regardless, it warrants her immediate attention.”

He made a brisk motion for Anton and Emily to follow him. “You two, come with me. Anchorite, if you’re tired you are welcome to the use of our facilities. If not, our healers would be grateful for your help again – I recall you working with them during our landing.”

Anton fell into step behind Montoy, wishing dearly he could get away with speaking what was on his mind at that moment but knowing full well that it would only make things worse.

* * *

* * *

Exhaustion was beginning to set in as Anton finally left the command lodge. It had already been expanded and outfitted with new rooms since last he’d seen it, but he had neither the inclination nor the opportunity to appreciate the renovations. After the hard march that had been their return to the garrison, and now an extensive retelling of the battle and its aftermath – although with certain tidbits omitted – he was almost ready to fall asleep where he stood.

Commander Dawson and Captain Montoy had insisted that he and Emily spare no details with regards to the battle, asking about everything from the enemy’s tactics to their numbers to their weaponry and magicks. By the end of it Anton felt like he wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d asked what color hair the orcs were sporting.

“I hope they got us some fancy new beds while we were out,” Anton remarked tiredly as he stepped outside, Emily following behind. “I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

She shrugged gently, her fur waving in the soft breeze as she joined him. “I am getting a bit tired, I suppose. Could use a bit of a kip.”

“Right? I thought they’d never shut up.” He grumbled. “Least that Thorn woman didn’t ask much, I guess. Just sat there and took notes. She was from Gilneas, right? I could tell by the accent.”

“She definitely was. I wonder if she has the curse as well?” Emily mused.

“I don’t know.” Anton answered non-committally as he started leading the way back towards the barracks. “Remind me why it’s called a ‘curse’ again? You seem pretty at ease with it.”

“Well, for the most part. We’ve all gotten used to it, I suppose. There’s still some times where I’d rather not have it. Back in the mine, you remember...” She shivered slightly and looked away. “And when it was out of control, when people who got it were going mad and killing each other...”

“Alright, good point.” Anton acknowledged. “Still, how come you don’t just turn human again? Like you did the other day.”

“I guess I could, but it doesn’t... I don’t know. Doesn’t feel right, I guess. Feels like I’m wearing someone else’s skin or something. Like I’m just in disguise.” She shrugged, her eyes aloof as though trying to distance herself from what she was saying. “It’s strange, but I feel more normal like this.”

“Huh. That is a bit weird. Must be a part of the curse, I guess?”

She shrugged again. “Maybe. Like I said, though, I’ve gotten used to it.”

Anton had to wonder what that meant for her exactly. If it was uncomfortable for her to change into her human form, did that mean she didn’t really consider herself as human anymore? Had the curse changed her that drastically? Was she any different before she got it? Was it the same for all worgen?

It was almost a bit much to think about in the state of tiredness he was in, but there was still one thought that sprang to mind readily. “Do you think it could be cured? Could a priest or something get rid of it?”

She shook her head quickly. “No. People have tried. I remember someone saying even the Archbishop couldn’t help. Just said there was nothing he could do.”

“Oh. That... kind of sucks.” He said uncertainly.

“Don’t worry yourself about it. I don’t look at it as anything to really worry about anymore.” She said reassuringly. “At the end of the day, it’s not even really that bad, anyway.”

“I guess so.” Anton let it drop. He didn’t understand how she could call it a curse so readily, but still seem so unconcerned about its effects.

“Why do you bring it up, anyway? Do you think I looked better as a human, or something?” She quipped, her tone suddenly taking on a note of amusement.

“Not at all.” He answered immediately. “Well, actually I can hardly even remember what you looked like then...”

She gave a short laugh. “Can’t honestly tell if that’s a compliment or not.”

“Shouldn’t have asked if you didn’t want the answer.” He said jokingly, chuckling along with her. “No, I was just curious. Just wondering, was all.”

“Fair enough.” She nodded in acknowledgement.

“I just wonder what Atoh’s going to say about us to Montoy. We’re probably going to be in the shit soon as they start talking.”

Emily snorted. “Yeah, probably. It’d be an interesting conversation to sit in on though, I’ll say that much.”

“Interesting’s one word for it,” Anton groused. “Can’t believe how much of a bitch she turned out to be. I almost thought she was nice for a minute or two there.”

“She was nice enough to you and me while we were with the caravan, though, wasn’t she? And she killed her share of orcs, and healed me as well.” Emily said pointedly. “She’s just got a bit of a stick up her arse. I guess we should have expected a priest like her to flip out like that.”

“She’s still an asshole, though. You heard her telling Montoy she thinks we should be separated.”

“Well, that I’m not so happy with, I’ll admit,” Emily conceded. “Anyway, I still think she’s funny. She really did sound just like my grandma when she was yelling.”

“Wish I could see it like you.” He glowered.

“It’s not that hard,” She shrugged with a smug smile. “You’re just too much of a pessimist to do it.”

“I am not a pessimist,” Anton said insistently. “I’m just... very sensible about things.”

“So, a pessimist in other words.” She chuckled.

“Alright, fine, I guess so. It’s easier to get away with it if you don’t use that word though.” He admitted as he joined her in her laughter. “But, still… Come on. ‘Lechers’, really? She called us lechers.”

“Ahh, don’t be such a baby.” She jibed, clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Bet you you’ll have forgotten about it by tomorrow.”

Anton found himself loosening up as they ambled slowly through the garrison together, casually chatting about whatever caught their eye. It was a welcome break, and it set him to marvelling just how easy it was for him to get along with her now, compared to the tension of the time when they had just started talking. She was certainly much less of an obstinate beast than what he had first marked her out as.

_I might have gone insane out here by now without her._

As they neared the barracks Anton noted the barracks had been impressively upgraded. It was now more stone and mortar than it was wood, and had to be nearly twice the size of what he remembered. If not for the rougher materials, it would have been near-on an exact reproduction of the barracks back in Stormwind.

The guard standing outside hailed them with a wave. “Hey, you two were the ones who got sent with the caravan, right? How’d that go?”

“Uhhh...” Anton considered his answer for a moment then realized that, all in all, he couldn’t actually find words that accurately described it. “Well, uh, it went. Sort of.”

“Oooh. That bad, huh?” The guard nodded sympathetically. “You guys better go see Captain Montoy then. I think he’s still down at the –“

“We already saw him, don’t worry.” Anton interrupted. “The only thing I’m looking for right now is my bunk.”

“Oh, right. Well, we’ve got actual quarters put in now since you guys left. Men’s are on the left, women’s the other way. You shouldn’t have much trouble finding them, place isn’t that big. Yet. I hear Mr. Alexston has more plans for it still.”

Anton gave a cursory thanks as they stepped past the man and into the barracks. Immediately within view was a new doorway off to the left, which Anton could only presume would take him to his quarters, and he could easily espy Emily’s destination on the other side of the room.

He shuffled his feet awkwardly as he caught Emily’s eye. He wasn’t quite sure what manner of farewell would fit their strange relationship while in the public eye. “Well, goodnight,” He said awkwardly. He wasn’t sure exactly what he should say, given the strange circumstance of their relationship. He certainly couldn’t treat her like she was just another soldier anymore. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I suppose.”

“Yeah...” She responded slowly, sounding somewhat spaced out. Just as Anton turned to leave, he felt her grasp his arm firmly and pull him back. She had an intense, serious look on her face all of a sudden. “Hey, I know – I mean, we probably shouldn’t, but...”

Anton waited for her to continue, but she only trailed off. For a moment it seemed like she had lost the nerve to finish her thought, but she gulped and drew in a steeling breath.

“I just got an idea. You know the fishing pools out past the north gate? Off near the mine?” She waited for his nod before she went on. “You want to... meet me out there in a few hours...?”

He drew in a sharp breath as her words hit his ears, tiredness abruptly falling to the back of his mind.

_Is she really saying what I think she’s saying? She is, isn’t she?_

“Yeah, sure,” He agreed, trying to keep his voice casual despite the sudden shot of electricity he was feeling. “Sounds good.”

“Alright,” She breathed, suddenly looking herself like she was trying to restrain her excitement. “I’ll come wake you up. Just, give it about... half an hour or so before you follow me out. We want to play it cool, right?”

“Right. Cool,” He echoed, slowly starting off towards his quarters again. “Right. I’ll... Okay. I’ll see you then. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

Anton found his bunk and slipped into it without any further fuss, but sleep didn’t come anywhere near as easily as it should have. He couldn’t stop wondering whether he was actually about to get lucky or not.

* * *

* * *

Despite the difficulty he had getting to sleep, he nonetheless still found himself being woken up by one of Emily’s hands shaking his shoulder gently. For probably the first time in his life, he awoke without the usual blear in his eyes or sluggishness in his head; her claws digging just slightly into his sleeping clothes instantly brought him to acute alertness.

“Hey. Wake up,” Emily whispered. “Half an hour. Don’t forget.”

“Right.”

She nodded and left without another word. She kept looking covertly over her shoulders, as though she expected anyone to take umbrage with her presence at any moment.

As Anton laid back and waited he knew he’d later call it the longest, most painfully drawn-out half an hour of his life. He filled the time by counting the mortar joints in the brick walls and the tiny cracks in the wooden roof, mindlessly reciting tavern songs he could only partly remember, anything to distract him from the temptation to just jump up and follow her out despite her instructions. He resorted to counting the seconds just so he could count each minute, though he lost count each time he found himself wishing he could just hop out of bed and follow her already.

_Hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait..._

After he felt that the demanded half an hour had elapsed - or at least dearly hoped, anyway – he hauled himself out of bed and pulled his boots on as quietly as he could. Acting on a whim as he stepped past his footlocker, he decided to finally put the bottle of cider to use that Emily had bought for him. He kept it to his side, trying to keep it invisible as he made his way out of the barracks.

A sense of both excitement and nervousness grew in him with each footstep. What exactly did Emily have planned for their midnight rendezvous, exactly? It wasn’t hard to make a guess, of course – there was one simple reason why a man and a woman would want to sneak away in the dead of night, after all. But was that really what she had in mind? How far did she plan on taking this?

As he stepped outside, the cool moonlight of Shadowmoon Valley drew his attention away from his musings for a brief moment. A pensive frown fell onto his face.

_A midnight rendezvous kind of loses its mystique when you remember it’s actually always midnight here._

Nobody paid him any heed as he trod the cobbled paths towards the north gate, despite the commotion of the garrison all around him. Labor crews were still feverishly constructing new buildings, extending the ones that already stood and fortifying the walls that surrounded them. Patrolmen made their rounds atop the walls and from structure to structure, their lanterns shining like fireflies in the gloom.

Anton, meanwhile, was left to make his way through the noise as unnoticed as a ghost. The only one who had even seemed to see him thus far was the guard on duty outside the barracks, and he had given him no more than a rote salute. The lack of attention suited him just fine. If luck was on his side, he would make it all the way out to the pools completely unnoticed – but his hopes fell short of reality as he reached the gate. There were two purple-haired night elves manning the post, dutifully scanning the forest. Their long ears didn’t fail to register his footsteps as he drew near.

“Good evening. Anton, was it not?” He recognized them as the Starhelm twins as Kalandra greeted him with an incline of her head, her voice as sombre as ever.

“That’s me,” He replied, forcing a smile onto his face to cover up his thoughts, which were completely elsewhere. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“And you also. We heard your caravan was attacked,” Desarune said with a sympathetic smile. “I am glad to see you still alive and well.”

“Yes, you and Emily both. She came through not long ago, actually.” Kalandra chimed in.

“Did she, now? Huh. Thanks for the heads up.”

_Gotta keep it cool. Just keep it cool._

“Oh. You weren’t planning to meet with her?” Desarune asked curiously, while his sister’s eyebrows quirked doubtfully.

“No, I wasn’t.” He lied glibly. “I... couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to get away from the noise for a while.”

Kalandra gave a knowledgeable nod, looking well assuaged by the answer. “Ah, yes. It’s the same for me, sometimes. I find it relaxing to withdraw to the forest when it all gets too much.” She stepped off the path, motioning for her brother to do the same. “We’ll impede you no more, then.”

“Don’t drink too much of that. It wouldn’t do to have a hangover on your next shift.” Desarune said good-naturedly, motioning to the bottle Anton held in his hands.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Anton answered as he made his way past them, making sure not to look too eager to get away - or too relieved that they’d actually bought it.

Although the hustle and bustle of the garrison could still dimly be heard on the wooded path outside, there was a lot less of it to be heard in the shadowed trees. It was certainly a rather noticeable contrast, but he found he was too wound up to really be relaxed by it – and in any case he was usually one to prefer the commotion of the streets and the worksite to the quiet of the woods.

Nonetheless, as he reached the fishing pools he had to admit they had a sense of serenity about them. The water almost seemed to glow in the moonlight, lending a cool radiance to the small pier and fishing shack that had been built upon them. They seemed to not be in use at the moment – barring one lazily wandering patrolman, whom Anton tried to avoid drawing the attention of – there was not a soul in sight.

Unfortunately, this included Emily. She’d said to meet her out by the fishing pools, but she wasn’t there when he arrived.

He felt a slight twinge of doubt, but pushed it down as quickly as it came. Given how clandestine she’d been in her instruction to meet, it was obvious she wouldn’t want to hang around where people might see. There was plenty of undergrowth around the pools that had not yet been cleared - she had probably found a nice spot out of sight somewhere around the banks, which left him with the tedious task of finding her.

Anton set about it without complaint - mostly because he didn’t really have anyone to complain to at that moment, but without complaint nonetheless. The pools were not quite big enough to be called a lake, but definitely large enough that he had his work cut out for him. He kept near the treeline until he believed he was out of sight of the patrolman, then allowed himself to walk a bit more freely closer to the banks. He could only hope that she was waiting to give him a sign or something, because he had no idea how he might find her.

He found himself far more relaxed than he would have otherwise thought, out so far from the garrison and all alone. The calm waters of the pools and thick veil of woodland that ringed them cultivated a strange sense of security. A light breeze that set the branches just slightly swaying was the only disturbance to the otherwise complete quiet. For a moment, it gave him the feeling that he was the only person in the world who’d ever been to this place – besides Emily. As soon as he found her, that was.

He was just starting to wonder whether or not he should be checking through the grass and shrubs or even if he should chance calling out to her when a wolf’s growl pierced into his eardrums from nearby. Immediately he froze up, unconsciously clutching the cider bottle tight in his hand. His heart pumped in his chest.

_Light save me. Are there wolves here? Nobody told me about any wolves._

He could hear it coming closer through the bush, menacingly creeping toward him, its growling growing ever louder. He cautiously stepped back away from the noise, cursing the fact that he didn’t have his sword on him and wondering how far he might make it before it was upon him – before he remembered something.

_Wait a second. That sounds familiar._

“... Emily? That you?” He asked, hoping against hope that his vague recollection of what her growling sounded like was accurate.

The growling abruptly turned into a burst of throaty laughter, sending an immense wave of relief through him. Emily stood up out of the undergrowth to her full height, her face alight with mischief. “Look at you! You just about pissed your pants!”

“That’s not funny! You almost gave me a heart attack!” He snapped, wiping the sweat off his brow and trying to calm his breathing. “I thought you were a real wolf!”

“That was the point,” She chuckled, but relented as she stepped out of the trees. “Alright, I’m sorry. I still thought it was pretty funny, though.”

“You’ve got a sick sense of humor.” Anton grumbled, but he couldn’t muster any venom into it. He was having to fight to keep the beginnings of a smile off his face as well. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Well, that was the point.” She said again mirthfully, her grin widening. “You made it too easy. I could hear you coming from a mile away.” She tapped her ear with one claw for effect.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help that. You didn’t have to scare me half to death for it!”

“No, I suppose not, but it was funny,” She sat down lightly on the grass, motioning to the cider bottle. “Good thinking bringing that out here, by the way, I’m parched. Pass it here, will you?”

He was almost tempted not to, but he forked it over anyway. Emily didn’t mess around uncorking the bottle; she simply dug one claw into it and wrestled it out, flicking it carelessly into the pools as she lifted the bottle to her muzzle. No sooner had she taken her first gulp did she abruptly stop, her face suddenly scrunching up tight.

“Eugh, Light above. I’m pretty sure that’s almost sweet enough to kill a man.” She complained, but licked her lips and took another swig anyway.

“Can’t be that bad if you’re still drinking it.” Anton pointed out.

She held the bottle back out to him. “Here, you have a go then. See what you reckon.”

He sat down next to her as he gave the bottle a cautious sniff. The smell was odd enough to draw a double-take out of him – rather than the stench of fermentation that he had expected, it smelled more like something straight out of a candy shop. Nonetheless he took a small swig from the bottle, bracing himself for the taste. There certainly was an overpowering amount of sugary sweetness to it - almost enough to hurt his teeth a little, but not on the level she’d described.

_It still tastes like alcohol at least._

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Tastes alright to me.” He remarked.

“Well, don’t hog it, then. Give it back here.” She held one hand to him expectantly.

He pulled the bottle back out of her reach, shooting her a sly look. “I thought you didn’t like it?”

“No, but I’ll be damned if I let you have the whole bottle of the only booze we’ve got. Give it here!” She insisted as she made a playful grab for it.

Her hand missed the bottle, only managing instead to wrap half around his wrist. Before he could jerk away she pulled him in close, using her other hand to try and prise it out of his hand.

“Careful, you’re spilling it!” He laughed as he tried to both twist his arm out of her grip and keep the bottle from being upended.

His efforts were in vain as she finally managed to wrest it away from him with a triumphant whoop. “Aha! Next time, if you don’t want me to spill it, you’ll just give it to me.”

“Or maybe you should just be polite.” He suggested bemusedly.

“Or maybe you should just give it to me.” She stuck her tongue out at him before quaffing another mouthful of cider. Her face promptly scrunched up again as she drank. “Man, if I’d known it would taste like this I might not have bought it. Feels like my teeth are falling out.”

She handed it back off to him without anymore fuss. “It’s a little too sweet maybe, but it’s not that bad.” He said as he took another sip. He didn’t say it out loud, but he had a feeling if he took mouthfuls as large as hers he’d probably have the same reaction.

“Meh. If you say so,” She shrugged and settled back, turning her gaze up to the sky. “It’s nice out here. Reminds me of the spring nights back home in Gilneas. Nice and cool and bright.”

“I suppose... it’s not so bad,” Anton agreed slowly, looking out again at the softly glowing water. It was a small struggle to keep his gaze from landing on Emily instead. “The Dark Portal was hell, but out here... I mean, I don’t think I’d want to stay here all my life, but yeah, it is pretty nice.”

“Mmmm. The draenei are lucky to get to live in a place like this.” She gave a relaxed sigh.

“Maybe not, if the orcs are any indication.”

She gave him a querying look. “I wouldn’t think they’d count when you’re talking about how nice a place is, would they?”

“They live here though, don’t they?” He asked with a pointed look that he just scarcely managed to keep from drifting downward.

“Ah, yeah. Fair point.” She sniffed.

“They even just about killed us here.”

“Yes, well, hopefully now we’ve gone through the worst of it. We weren’t exactly prepared for them when we came through, but now we know what we’re up against, don’t we?” Emily said confidently. “And with these draenei helping as well... I’ve got a feeling we’ll make it back home alright.”

“Maybe. Hopefully.” Anton conceded. “Just as long as we keep watching each other’s backs, right?”

He tilted his head to the side and locked eyes with her for a moment. A soft smile graced her face. “Right you are.”

For a time they merely tilted their heads back and quietly stargazed, passing the bottle back and forth between them as they watched the immovable moon and the ethereal stars that surrounded it quietly. Or at least, that was what they tried to do – Anton, for his part, was finding the sky increasingly boring compared to the woman next to him. Despite his attempts to keep focused, he couldn’t help but keep slipping glances her way.

There was something about the way her fur waved softly in the wind that captivated him, something about the way her golden eyes glowed in the moonlight that wanted to keep his gaze from leaving her. It was beautiful in a way that he couldn’t find appropriate words to describe. The only word that sprang to mind for him was ‘peculiar’, but that definitely didn’t do the sight before him justice.

He almost jumped when he looked over to find her sneaking a sideways peek at him in the same way he had been doing to her. She started for a moment, realizing she’d been caught, but didn’t look away. Instead she flashed a cheeky smile, cocking her head to the side like a curious dog.

“Something caught your eye?”

He just barely managed to breathe out his answer. “Might have done.”

That same spark had taken over again, a sudden surge of electricity that pushed any trace of tiredness to the back of his mind. Before he’d even consciously realized it, he was leaning over towards her. Seemingly possessed of the same force he was, he noticed her leaning in as well before he closed his eyes. For the second time, her muzzle met his lips, another soft shock that only added to the nervous energy.

This time the strange but welcome feeling of her fur tickling his chin was not the first thing he noticed; rather, it was the sugary taste of the cider on her lips. The sweet scent of it on her breath registered next as he remembered to breathe, like a tangible haze of liquor that crept its way into his brain as her lips pressed against his.

Though he was the one to take the initiative, she was the one who escalated the kiss, shimmying up to sit closer to him and bracing herself with her hands around his shoulders. Automatically, he wrapped his arms around her waist and as if in response she moved to entwine her arms around him in return. Once again he felt the faint pinpricks of her claws pressing into his clothes against his skin, sending another electric rush up his spine as he involuntarily arched his back.

The kiss ended as she pulled away from him suddenly, her tongue falling out of her muzzle as she panted. Her dazed eyes slowly came to focus on him with such an intensity that it almost made his heart skip a beat. “You know,” He started as his mind cleared slightly, “I’m pretty sure Atoh would pitch a fit if she saw us right now.”

Emily’s lips stretched upward in a devious grin. “Maybe we ought to give her something to really complain about, then.”

She stood up and took a few steps back away, her gaze deadset upon him the whole time. Without a word she lifted her hands up to the collar of her light vest - and wrenched it over her head in a single swift motion. Her bra remained in place as her chest bounced back into place, but Anton still felt his eyes just about bug out of his head at the sudden sight of her almost-bare upper body. Even through the tawny fur, he could make out a noticeable abdominal definition.

Evidently emboldened by his reaction, Emily cast the garment to the ground and brought her arms up behind her back, lifting her chest up higher. After a mere moment’s fumbling, her bra fell limply onto the grass, exposing her completely.

_Okay, holy hell, it really is going there._

For a brief moment, Anton had the blessed opportunity to study the way the lighter fur of Emily’s belly crept upward onto her breasts, before they were abruptly covered up by her clawed hands with a muttered curse and a suddenly bashful look. Anton wrenched his gaze away to meet her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, thankful that he was able to keep most of the disappointment out of his voice.

“I – I shouldn’t have...” Misgiving was clear in her tone as she looked down and heaved a sigh. “You’re going to think I’m stupid.”

“What? I don’t think that at all,” Anton said confusedly. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, it’s just...” She floundered, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have done this. Look at me. I’m all covered in fur.”

“Yes, and?”

“It’s not... right. It’s not normal, it’s ugly.” She said with the finality of a judge handing down a sentence – Only she was handing it to herself as she kept her head down and refused to meet his eyes.

“You’re not ugly,” Anton reassured her, trying to make his voice just as certain. “I’ve never thought you were ugly, and – and who in hell cares about what’s normal? We’re like forty years back in time, getting shit from this mad draenei, and, and - and look up at the sky, the moon never goes down here. You can’t tell me that’s all normal.”

“I guess, but –“

“I honestly think –“ Anton gulped, steeling himself to finish the thought. “- I honestly think you’re… You know. Attractive. Even your claws, and the fur, and – you know, all that other weird stuff.” He floundered for a second, realizing he’d hit a bad note. “I mean, it’s weird, but I definitely don’t think you’re ugly.”

_There. Not bad for an impromptu speech._

Emily just stared at him apprehensively for a moment, standing stock still and keeping herself covered as she visibly weighed his words.

“... I mean, that was flattering - I think - But…” She said, rubbing her arms nervously. “Alright, then – Then you take your shirt off as well. That’ll make me feel better, if you have to do it too.”

Anton nodded slowly and stood up as well. He couldn’t deny the fairness of the request; if she had to do it then he could do it as well. It was almost unfair in another way, though; training and exercise had made him as capable as any other man or woman who soldiered for a living, but in direct comparison to her, it was impossible not to see himself as small and weak.

Even as he stood up to his full height he was almost a head shorter than her – There was a distance of a few paces between them, but he still had to look up a bit to meet her waiting gaze. She held a sizeable advantage in any physical contest that he just couldn’t match, and though he recognized the stupidity of the feeling, he still couldn’t entirely push down a sense of inferiority.

_Why would she want to see something she could beat out any day of the week?_

He had never let himself be cowed by her before, though, and he didn’t plan to start now. No matter how damning a comparison might be between him and her, he was not going to let it get to him. He just had to remind himself that he knew now she didn’t consider herself as better than him, as he’d once feared she had. It just wasn’t who she was.

Trepidation made the small task into a demanding one, but he pushed through it and forced himself to lift his own shirt up off his chest, throwing it off to the side in one quick motion in an effort to be done with it faster. Now he had nothing left to do but to wait for her judgment.

The way in which she appraised him only heightened his nervousness. To both his relief and gratification, she looked almost impressed at first - But when her eyes started to look less like an admiring partner and more like a hungry wolf, he had to admit that killed the feeling a bit. He was fairly sure he broke out in a sweat at the exact moment she greedily licked her chops.

“There you go.” He said, desperate to distract both himself and her. “Shirt’s off.”

She apparently came back to herself at the sound of his voice, suddenly possessed once more of her bashfulness as she looked directly at him.

“Right... Then I suppose I should...”

Slowly, nervously did she unfold her long arms, letting them hang limply at her side as she let him see her topless chest. Anton’s breath caught for a moment – Even if he hadn’t been already, the tantalizing sight would have been enough to get him going on its own.

_No idea what she thinks she’s got to be ashamed of._

He yearned to see more of her, and he could hazard a guess from the way her eyes raked down his body in an almost covetous way that the feeling was mutual. The thought that she wanted him was a bolstering notion, more than enough assurance to spur him forward.

They couldn’t very well just leave off now – out on a secret rendezvous, standing apart from each other, half-clothed in the moonlight. There was so much more on the table than that, but he could tell he was going to have to be the one to take the initiative and claim it. The nervous air that Emily had suddenly taken on was a clear indication she’d lost her head of steam.

He merely grasped at his belt clasp, and the response from Emily was instantaneous. Her attention suddenly snapped to what he was doing.

“Same time?” He asked her pointedly, flicking his gaze down to her own belt. She started as though she hadn’t been expecting him to talk.

“Oh. Yeah.” She agreed hesitantly, bringing her hands down to her waist. “Sure.”

Anton found himself fumbling with his belt as he tried to keep his eyes on her instead, waiting for the fated moment to arrive. Unfortunately for him, however, she was doing the exact same thing and having as much trouble with the simple mechanism as he was.

He managed to finish the task first despite the self-made handicap, drawing Emily’s attention immediately onto him. The way her pupils shrank as she licked her lips sent a slight chill down his spine.

“Well, what’s keeping you?” He jabbed, earning a sudden irritated glare that almost made him laugh.

“Shut your face, I’m getting there.” She growled, returning her focus to her task with visible reluctance.

A particularly heinous fumble sent one of her claws tearing right through the soft fabric of her pants. She cursed and growled again, but nonetheless finally managed to undo her belt properly and step out of the now slightly-ripped leggings. Anton had planned to tease her further for the slip-up, but the sudden sway of her newly exposed hips captured his focus for the brief few moments before she hooked her claws into the edge of her panties.

“Last thing,” She breathed nervously. “Same time?”

“Right,” Anton agreed, devoid of thought for a moment.

His brain caught up to his mouth quickly enough, though, hauling in misgivings as it always did. It occurred to him that this was the last barrier between them and complete nakedness. There was probably not going to be any takebacks if they took their last bits of clothing off. Hell, there probably wasn’t already, of course, but that would absolutely cement it.

_No going back now, I suppose._

He yanked his underwear down before he could subject himself to any more stupid second thoughts. He didn’t want to take this back in any case, and he didn’t want to let himself think that he might.

Once again Emily’s avid gaze fell upon him, though this time she stopped completely to scrutinize him. He pushed his reservations about what he was doing as far to the back of his brain as he could and stood up straight, forcing his arms to his side. Her display thus far already had him half erect, but even that image failed to quell the nerves as he stood and waited for her judgment. Prior to this clandestine meeting he could have said with certainty that he had no qualms about himself or his image; now it was more accurate to say he had had none before this moment. There was something about Emily that made him fervently hope he was up to scratch like no other woman had.

Her judgment did not come, however. She only stared, her eyes flicking up and down but never leaving his body for a moment. Her nose was twitching in the air as she drew in increasingly rapid breaths. When she started outright panting despite remaining completely unmoving, he felt compelled to say something, anything to relieve the pressure.

“Weren’t you going to finish as well?” He pointed out.

“Yeah...” She murmured dazedly before suddenly snapping back to focus. “Oh! Yeah. Right. Sorry, I just got... Heh, got a bit distracted.”

“Should I take that as a compliment then?”

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t let it go to your head.” She joked nervously. “Look, just... Just don’t think it’s too weird, alright?”

Before he could ask what she meant she quickly shimmied her panties down, slipping them off the end of her paw with a fluid motion and revealing exactly what she was referring to. At that moment Anton learned that there was not one part of her that had been spared the worgen transformation.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but he was sure that the leathery-looking canine vulva sticking out like a sore thumb from the fork of her legs was definitely not it. In a way, he was immediately repulsed; it reminded him too readily of the animals back on his parents’ farm for him to be entirely comfortable with.

But on the other hand, it was still Emily, wasn’t it? She definitely wasn’t an animal, even if she resembled one in some ways. She had a fair few bestial features about her, but half of them were as admirable as not, exotic, even attractive in their own way. The feral glint in her eyes, the sleek beauty of her fur, the appreciable danger of her claws and fangs... Was this a whole other can of worms, though, or was it something he could live with?

Would it feel any different? It was the obvious question, of course. Would it get in the way, or, Light forbid, actually enhance the experience? He found himself transfixed on her womanhood, wondering, imagining. Maybe he could look at it as just another weird but good thing about her? Maybe.

Either way, he was already resolved not to back out now. His options were to keep going with what they’d already started or make some awkward excuse and leave off, but he could hardly stand to give the latter a second thought. Certain baser urges he had at that moment made clear that it was a simply woeful solution.

_With the way she’s worked me up I’ll be regretting it for the whole night if I quit here._

“It is a little weird,” He said honestly. “But it doesn’t change a thing I said. I still think you’re beautiful.”

She let out a relieved breath. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. I’ve been really afraid that... It’s just something people would be put off by.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry myself too much,” He said reassuringly. “Heh. Isn’t it usually you saying that to me?”

She gave a short, rueful laugh, her bashful air seeming to fade somewhat. “Yeah. Guess I’m off my game a bit, tonight.”

In a way, Anton couldn’t help but find it heartening that she was as nervous as he was. It was almost easy to think this whole situation was something he was dreaming; the way the moonlight illumined her form was almost surreal contrasted against the shadows of the hills and the foliage around the lake shore that gave them their seclusion. Her hesitation was something he could readily understand. It was something that reminded him she was real, grounded in the exact same place he was.

_I know what she’d be doing right now if it were a dream._

Anton started to close the distance between them almost subconsciously, sheer desiderium pushing him forward. For a moment he was unsure if he was moving too fast, if he should yet be moving in - but Emily surprised him as she took a great, abrupt stride to meet him halfway. With one motion she wrapped him up in her long arms and leaned down to bring him into another kiss.

The difference in their heights was made more evident than ever as Anton had to crane his neck back to meet her. The sudden warmth enveloping him seemed to be further insulated by her fur, fanning the flames of his growing arousal as she pressed her body up closely against him. Emily reacted keenly as his rising erection nudged against her thigh, moaning into the kiss and almost stealing his breath entirely as she pushed her mouth against his ever more forcefully. He tried hard to return the motion, vividly aware of the heat of the embrace rapidly going from simmering to boiling point. She was perfect, she was right there, and it was impossible to deny the effect her lithe body was having on him.

She pulled her muzzle back just as he felt sure that he was about to run out of oxygen, panting heavily and staring down at him with an intense desire that he felt mirrored in himself.

“Where should we-?” He asked breathlessly, looking around briefly for somewhere that might have a bit more comfort.

“Here.” She answered immediately, her voice ablaze with intent but her hands on his shoulders more gentle than he would have expected as she urged him down onto the grass.

The soft ground was a breath of coolness on his spine for a moment as he laid back for her, letting her guide him into the position she chose, but the intense heat was back upon him the instant she kneeled down to straddle him. From below she seemed even taller again, looming above him with an even more imposing presence than usual, her eyes glowing madly in the pale moonlight.

She wasted no time with foreplay, seemingly fixated with escalating the encounter as far as it could go. Anton couldn’t take his eyes off her, his heart catching in his throat as she shimmied back until their hips just about met. The way the short fur of her inner thighs brushed against him amped up the sense of anticipation almost to a point he couldn’t bear, his brain telling him that despite how close she was, she still wasn’t close enough.

She raised her body off his just slightly, just enough that she could bring one gentle hand down to manoeuvre him to her entrance, visibly slick with arousal, as desperate for his attention as he was for hers. In spite of the blazing heat of the moment, she sank down on to him with deliberate slowness, her canine pussy bulging around his tip as she started to carefully guide him in.

The fun barely had a chance to start before it ground to a halt, however. He let out an involuntary groan of discomfort as he was suddenly stopped by the awkward shape of her anatomy, the head of his cock just barely inside her. From his perspective the problem was evident, but it took Emily a few moments for her to realize the logistics of the issue; she was trying to push him in at an angle her body simply couldn’t accommodate.

“I think you might need to turn around or something,” He suggested with a huffing breath. He felt an urgent need that just wasn’t being satisfied, that he had to restrain to keep himself from acting too improperly.

“Good idea.” She answered, hastily pulling herself up off him and leaving his slickened cock bitterly exposed to the chill of the air.

One paw flew over his head as she turned herself around and straddled him again, acting with a frenetic energy that told him she was just as eager as he was. She held her toned buttocks just a ways off him for a moment as she reached down to grasp him again.

The warm fur of her hand felt like it was sending tingles throughout his body with each brush, but that specific warmth wasn’t the one he was after at that moment. Emily seemed to be of the same mind as she eagerly guided him to position. The slick warmth of her folds made his breath catch for a second as she nestled his cock just inside the cleft of her pussy.

This time she seemed to have nowhere near the same patience as before, her ears flattening against her skull as she pushed herself down onto him until they reached the barrier they had before – and then pushed past it with a gasp and a growling, guttural oath. Anton inhaled reflexively, holding his breath to keep from giving a similar reaction.

If her fur was a warm blanket around his legs, her pussy was more akin to a hot fire. He felt her walls rubbing tightly against him with every minor motion she made on her descent. A sudden shudder took her as she drove down harder, her back arching and her muscles seeming to flex around him, clutching at him abruptly in a motion that felt like she was trying to wring him dry.

Already he felt himself close to being overwhelmed by the stimulation as she finally bottomed out atop him, fur meeting skin as their hips coming to rest together for a moment. His entire lower body felt almost encapsulated by her, her legs firmly trapping the warmth of the encounter in with them like a warm, furry cocoon. The excitement of the earlier buildup had done a number on him; he was nowhere near ready for this.

_Never had anything like this before._

She spared a look back towards him as he struggled to control his breathing.

“How’s the other side look? Alright?” She asked cheekily, turning halfway around to look down her shoulder at him with a sly, false demureness. Her mouth lay open with a wolfish grin that told him she knew exactly the turmoil he was going through.

“Too good.” He managed to reply. “Stop for a second so I can catch my breath, will you?”

“Catch your breath? I’m the one doing all the work.” She chuffed.

“You know what I mean.”

To her credit she did stop as much as he could, giving Anton a moment to get his bearings. Even when she wasn’t in motion, he still could feel every slight movement of her wet, gripping passage around him, but he was still able to clear his mind to an extent. He focused on the dark night sky behind her and the cool grass beneath him, steadily ignoring the temptation to return his attention to her until he finally felt he had a handle on himself.

Their eyes met for a moment as he flexed his hips upward slightly, wordlessly letting her know that he was ready. She started up without pre-amble, her pussy clinging gently to his cock as she lifted herself up as though unwilling to let him leave, and yet gripping him so tightly as she brought herself back down that he could almost think it was squeezing him of its own volition. Her ardent desire on such full display prompted him to push up into her in an almost unthinking reciprocal reaction, earning an approving growl despite their position limiting the headway he could make.

It took her only a few moments of experimentation to find a pace she liked, which she promptly set about with gusto. Her frenetic motions were a caliber of action that the both of them revelled in; it was all he could do to keep from writhing in the grass at the way she was lavishing her attention on him. Before long she seemed to have worked herself into a complete frenzy of relentless motion, her breathing turned entirely into erratic, desperate panting as she drove them both higher towards crescendo.

In a way the maddened rut she had thrown herself into resembled the bloodlust she had been overtaken by in the mine – but this was by far a more appealing transformation. Animal instinct seemed to have swept over her like a tidal wave, and now threatened to crash against him too as he let himself be lost in the act.

The world around them seemed to lose focus entirely, robbed of all its importance by the amorous embrace. Every part of his body and brain welcomed the uncontrollable ride toward utter bliss he found himself on – every part except one small, niggling bit at the back of his mind that knew the pace was unsustainable.

_I don’t want this to stop._

It was like a breath of autumn air rolling through his head, dispelling enough of the aphrodisiacal fog that he could think again. The molten, feral rush was something that he found difficult to deny, but he knew he wanted more than just that.

He wanted the encounter to last longer, but he was fast approaching his limit; if he was going to stop her, it had to be now. He reached out with one hand and gripped her waist in an effort to impede her movements. She looked back at him irritably, her eyes halfway misted over but slowly coming to focus as he held her still.

“Stop for a second,” He implored her. “You’re going way too fast for me.”

“What?” Her ears flicked with annoyance. “Stop? Again?”

“This will be over way too quick if you keep up like that,” He said helplessly. “You have to slow down a bit.”

“Ah, come on. Slow down? I was just starting to get into it.” She grumbled lightly.

He knew it was only gentle ribbing, but it still stung a bit to hear. “I just wanted this to last a bit longer, is all. Make it a bit more... I don’t know, special.”

“Special, huh? You really are soft as shit.” She growled gently, her sniping completely devoid of venom. “Alright, sorry. I suppose you’re right.”

“Don’t be sorry, I just... need a bit of getting used to it, is all.” He shrugged as best he could. “Anyway, how am I supposed to keep up with you right off the bat? You’re acting like a mad wolf.”

“Hmph. I am a mad wolf!” She laughed roughly as she lifted herself up again, wringing a gasp out of him as she slammed down for emphasis.

He leaned up and placed his other hand on her rear, trying to restrain her for just a moment. “Well, alright - How about you let me be on top? I bet I’ll rein you in a bit.”

“Oh, will you now?” A mischievous glint appeared in her eye as she stopped and considered for a moment. “Alright then, I’ll let you, but you better make it worth the while...”

Cool air came rushing in between them as she hauled herself up off him, all the colder on his skin for the lubrication she left behind. In spite of his commitment, his body wanted nothing more than her warmth back upon it. For a moment he almost regretted stopping her.

She came to a rest on her haunches next to him, her nose twitching wildly as her eyes roved up and down his body. He drew in a breath to ask her if she was about to sneeze, before realizing exactly what it was that she smelled in the air between them - It was the almost pheromonal smell of sex, of their scents subtly mixed together in a way that slyly goaded him on, encouraged him to seek more of it in her.

He had to breathe deeply to catch any more than a hint of it, however; for him it was like drawing in mere wisps of the scent. For a detached moment he wondered how heady it was for Emily’s wolf nose, before her husky voice brought him back down to earth.

“How do you want me, then?”

He considered for a moment. It didn’t take him long to think of the one thing he’d been missing from the encounter.

_I want to see her face._

“On your back.”

She gave him an uncertain look. “Is that going to work? I mean, we just had trouble before...”

“I don’t know. I want to try, though.” He insisted. She shrugged and acquiesced after a moment, dropping down to lay herself on the grass as Anton got up to his knees.

She spread her legs wide invitingly, offering him an inviting sight as he moved urgently to position himself before her. Her body heat radiating onto him was a pleasant sensation in its own right, but the anticipation of greater warmth that it instilled in him was another thing entirely. With one hand he directed his tip toward her entrance, pausing briefly to take a steeling breath. He expected to be stymied initially, but reasoned that he could try and find a position that accommodated them both.

He started gently as he pushed himself inside, savoring the smoldering slickness of her velveteen grip - but once again the intense warmth had just barely begun to enshroud him before he found himself unable to forge any deeper. He shifted himself upward at first, then down; one way, then another; but no matter what he tried the aberrant arrangement of her anatomy denied him, leaving him with nothing but an ever-increasing yearning to be inside her.

Just as he began to worry that they might not be able to make it work, Emily decided to join him in his efforts, lifting her head to try and coordinate her shimmying with his. Her desirous gaze made it clear she was just as desperate for a deeper contact as he was, but even together they seemed to be unable to solve the issue.

Relief came when she bucked her hips upward in frustration just as he tried to direct himself downward, pulling a gratified vocalization from the both of them as he finally made headway. The rush of sensation was like a prayer answered, at last appeasing to some degree the primal urge to be closer to her.

But still he needed more, and thankfully he now knew the path forward. Wordlessly he reached down and grabbed her butt with both hands, scarce noticing the brush of her fur between his fingers as he gripped the taut muscles beneath. He hardly felt in control of himself as he lifted her rear up, affording him the right angle at last to plunge the rest of the way in.

Her legs jerked visibly as she tensed up in his hands, her whole body going taut as she threw her head back. “Ahh! Finally! I thought you were never going to get there.”

“Just needed a bit of persistence.” He said dryly, belatedly noticing how dry his throat felt in the midst of the excitement. Even just sitting still locked together in the manner they were was an almost overwhelming feeling.

“Yeah? You sound so confident.” She said with a breathy snicker, lifting her head back up to eye him playfully. “Bit of a change from your usual take on things.”

“Well... I mean, I guess you’re right,” He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “But, this isn’t exactly ‘usual things’ right now, is it?”

She grinned slyly. “True. Maybe it could be, though...”

His eyes widened as her implication hit him with all the subtlety of a brick. Previously he’d been too occupied or too tired to consider their future – but if there was more of this in store then he was absolutely on board.

The thought only distracted him for a moment, however – They were contemplations for another time, perhaps when they weren’t in the throes of midnight passion. He finally started to make his move, pulling back out of her slowly, almost methodically. In truth he was still wary that it may be more effort than it was worth to try and set a rhythm in this position, given the difficulties he’d had with just the first thrust. The angle that he had to maintain to make it work placed noticeable pressure on the upper side of his cock – not enough to be too discouraging, but definitely noticeable.

Once he was nearly all the way out he found himself unable to resist temptation to start in earnest, abruptly abandoning his wariness and pushing back in with impatient force. He was rewarded with a sudden spike of narcotic pleasure racing up his spine as he glided in, cleaving down into her with her velveteen grip offering up only token resistance.

His every nerve ending felt as though it was lighting up as he found himself drawn into a harder pace, no matter his own earlier reservations about going too fast. He craved more. His brain was desperate for more action, urging him to fuel the bonfire they were both kindling, to rush himself towards the inevitable climax – And he was having a hard time telling it no. With each motion it became more difficult to keep to an even, predictable tempo, his thrusts gradually becoming more about desperate attainment than mutual enjoyment.

He was losing control and he knew it. He could feel the pressure rising, demanding release – a stark warning that he was mere moments away from reaching his limit. Emily had flopped back completely, her mouth hanging open and her eyes unfocused, looking for all the world as though she was completely lost in a stupefying endorphin high. The sight of her in such a state – the fact that it was him who’d brought her to it - only served to drive him even wilder.

He was so close. Neither of them had given even a moment’s thought to protection, and here they were on the cusp of climax. He felt himself obligated to warn her - the risk was too great to ignore - but his mouth wouldn’t work properly.

“Emily – I’m close – I’m –“

Her reaction was instantaneous, her gaze suddenly alert and fixated wholly on him. Her body shifted slightly as she stabilized herself with her elbows and lifted her head up to lock eyes with him, sending a volatile rush through him that brought him even closer to the edge.

“I want to feel it! Do it!” She snarled, her voice shuddering slightly in its intensity. She glared at him intently, conveying the message that she hadn’t yet spoken; it was more than mere consent she was offering, it was a trepidant yet defiant dare for him to do it.

Her vociferous encouragement broke the last shred of his restraint, finally allowing him to surrender himself utterly to the same bestial enthusiasm she was animated by. Some primal part of him told him that it wasn’t just carelessness compelling her answer; it was more. It was an animalistic fearlessness, a willingness to breed, and he was finding himself caught up in it.

He abandoned caution entirely at last, pushing the thoughts of sensibility away and giving himself over to the basal urge to thrust as deeply as he could as he finally reached the inevitable peak.

His orgasm was a rush incomparable to anything in memory, a delirious, animal frenzy that completely overtook his mind as he gave shot after shot over to her. The only part of his brain that remained working drove him to desperately push against her, seeking to get ever closer despite that he was hilted inside. Without intending to he lost his kneeling position, pitching forward on top of her in his yearning to be closer to her, deeper inside her. He could hardly manage to care that he was struggling to breathe through a face full of her chest fur.

Only scarcely could he recognize it in the rush, but she was seemingly as desperate as he was. He dimly registered the heavy press of her legs wrapping around his lower back, trying to push him into her as surely as he was himself, a reciprocal signal of wanting that fanned the flames even higher.

The need for oxygen soon demanded that he draw his head back out of her chest, sucking in a deep breath. His head turned skyward but he saw nothing, only felt Emily’s heated, clutching embrace and heard her heaving gasps and snarls as her canine pussy tried to wring everything it could out of him, seemingly possessed of its own mind by the way it spasmodically convulsed and pulled upon him. Even if he’d had the intent to deny it, he no longer had any ability to whatsoever, utterly lost in adrenaline and endorphin soaked bliss as he was; and in any case it was far too late to do so now.

Slowly the overwhelming stimulation started to fade, the ability to form thoughts gradually returning to him as he sucked in one breath after another, unable to rein his racing heart in. He was utterly spent, his exhaustion finally catching up to him to fill the void of sensation left in the wake of their coupling, threatening to make him blank out entirely.

Emily’s locked legs fell limp and trembling at last behind him, her upper thighs coming to rest on his ankles as they lay together. In their stead her long arms slowly reached down to wrap around him in a softer, gentler embrace than what they had just shared. Neither of them seemed to have the energy or the inclination to pull apart properly and so they simply rested where they were, gradually recovering together under the night sky.

For the first time in a long while he felt completely at ease. He felt no pressing urge to be anywhere or do anything as he laid upon her, warm where her fur was covering and cool where it was not. The anticipation, the action and the exhilaration were all dispensed with, leaving him with nothing but raw contentment. It was as though his fears and anxieties had been sucked out of him, making it seem as though all the strife they had been through on Draenor was something far off, just a passing worry of a distant conflict.

_I could definitely get used to this._

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed there in each other’s embrace, but it wasn’t long enough for him. Sooner than he would have liked did the warm haze of the afterglow recede, the cool breeze flitting in through the gaps in the comforting covering of Emily’s hug bringing him back down to earth like a glass of water on his face. In fits and starts the realization of exactly where they were and what they’d done slowly came back to him.

_Shadowmoon Valley. The fishing pools. We... We just..._

Before he could collect his scattered thoughts anymore, however, Emily interrupted him with a tremendous heaving breath as she made to sit up.

“Alright, you have to get off me, Anton,” She groaned as she tipped slightly over to one side, allowing Anton to roll off her gently, down onto his back in the grass. “You might be short, but you’re still too heavy to do that for too long.”

His dry throat kept him occupied for a moment before he managed to respond. “’Short’? I’m pretty sure we agreed you were just really tall.” He accompanied his counter jibe with a poke in the ribs for good measure, earning a snort of laughter from her.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say, shorty.” She teased with a sparkle in her eye. She patted the grass next to her. “Come on. You can still lay next to me, though.”

He acquiesced almost automatically, shuffling himself over to the warmth of her furry body as she held one arm out for him. A feeling of comfort enveloped him as she drew him in close, letting him use her arm as an impromptu pillow as he laid back next to her.

It was a bit strange to be laying back next to someone far taller than him, and on the ground instead of in a soft bed no less. Hell, the whole encounter had been rather strange. It was sudden and spontaneous, and if he was frank it had been outright nerve-wracking at a few points. In spite of that – or perhaps even because of it, he had to admit to himself – it had also been exciting in a way he’d never felt before, as well as much needed companionship and stress release to boot.

Despite all that, it set him to wondering about their relationship now, especially considering the risk of what they’d just done. In the heat of the moment he had given it barely a thought’s worth of consideration, but now it was a cause for serious consternation. They had been completely unprotected, utterly brazen in their thrill seeking.

_What if I got her pregnant? Can that even happen? What would the baby even look like?_

He gulped as the thoughts relentlessly pushed their way into his mind, dispelling the calm he’d managed to keep. Emily seemed to notice his discomfort, looking over at him concernedly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice gentler than he would have expected.

“I, uh...” He gulped and steeled himself. “Were we... You know. Were we... safe just now, Emily?”

“Oh,” She looked away, a somewhat troubled expression falling onto her face as well. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I don’t know if we can... You know. I mean, I’m a worgen, after all. I’ve never heard of a worgen having a baby.”

“You haven’t spent a lot of time around any other worgen though, have you?” He asked her. “You said as much earlier.”

“Well, no. I haven’t,” She admitted slowly. She seemed to be deep in thought, staring deeply off into space. “But, still... I’ve never even heard of it.”

Anton wasn’t sure what to make of that. He couldn’t say he had either, but then it wasn’t anything he’d ever actually thought about in the first place – Until just now, anyway.

“Well, what do you think we should do?” He asked nervously.

“I think we should just worry about it if we have to.” She said after a moment’s consideration. “We’ve got enough to worry about as it is, I’d say. Nothing might even happen, right? We’ll just deal with it when we have to. If we have to.”

Anton couldn’t entirely keep the hesitancy off his face as she spoke. He didn’t want to point it out to her, but he couldn’t honestly call that anything but a barebones solution at best. “Emily, I’m not sure –“

“Hey,” She interrupted him with a gentle nudge. “You remember what I said earlier?”

“What?” He asked, brows furrowed as he tried to think of what she was thinking.

“You really do worry too much. You need to relax yourself a bit,” She said gently. “There’s every chance nothing will come of it. And if it does – We’ll deal with it then. We’ve been through a lot of shit already, haven’t we? We’ll make it work if we have to. No matter how bad it gets. Right?”

She turned to look at him then, her eyes glowing brightly as she squeezed his hand reassuringly with the arm she had looped around him.

He still didn’t know how she could manage to be so confident, but laying next to her as he was, he couldn’t say it wasn’t contagious, even if only slightly. In her embrace, it was easier than he thought to push the worries aside. As long as they were together, they would be alright. That was how they’d done it so far.

“I... I guess you’re right.” He conceded. “It’s a worry for another time.”

“That’s the way. We’ll just deal with whatever comes, as it comes.” She said soothingly, leaning in to lick him gently on the cheek. As she drew her face away again, her nose crinkled up.

“What?” Anton asked.

“Nothing, it’s just... I just realized that, you know – Well, we smell like we’ve been having sex.” She chuckled abashedly before unhooking her arm from around him and sitting up.

“Well, we have been, haven’t we?” He laughed with her. “I can’t really smell it that much, though.”

“That’s because you haven’t got a nose like mine, have you?” She said with a slightly smug smile and a tap of her snout. She leaned down slightly, offering her hand down to lift him up. “Come on. We’d better go and have a wash before we go back to the barracks or everyone will know exactly what we were doing out here. Sooner we start drying off, the better.”

He hauled himself up with her help, leaving their clothes behind for a while as he waded with her into the pools, smiling to himself the whole way.

_She’s right. I suppose I could stand to loosen up a little bit._

* * *

* * *

Neither of them talked a great deal as they made their way back to the garrison, instead choosing to simply enjoy the time they had to themselves before they had to pretend like they hadn’t just been eloping out at the ponds. Anton found himself too tired to really carry on a conversation in any case. He had been awake for far too long and had had far too much exertion packed into one day. Or evening, whichever it was.

Thankfully for him, Emily seemed to be of a like mind, sharing little more with him than an occasional glance and a smile, keeping a slow enough pace that even in his overtired state he had no issue staying with her. The most intricate their interactions reached was passing what little remained of the cider bottle between them every now and again as they walked.

Kalandra and Desarune were still on duty as they returned; predictably, the two sharp-sighted elves spotted them a long way off, immediately looking up to catch sight of them despite the fact that they appeared to be deep in conversation. They gave a friendly wave of recognition, then returned to chatting as he and Emily came out of the trees together. Anton was able to catch a snippet of it as they approached.

“... no, I feel it as well. It all feels... strange here. And, I will admit, at this point I almost miss seeing the sun.” Kalandra said quietly to her brother, before turning her attention over to them. “Ah. Hello again, you two. How went your walk?“

“Fine enough. Nice and quiet.” Emily said simply. “Any excitement here?”

“Nothing notable.” Kalandra shrugged before addressing Anton directly. “You’re feeling better then, I presume?

“A bit. Tired now, though,” Anton answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie, really. “Hopefully I can actually sleep now.”

“Mmm. It’s like I said, a simple walk at night can do wonders sometimes.” She smiled softly. “I am glad you didn’t run into any trouble outside the walls. Come, Desarune, let’s be out of their way. I’m sure they’re eager for their bunks.”

Desarune was eyeing them both shrewdly, a small grin on his face that Anton didn’t like the implications of. “Oh, of course. I’ve no doubt they are.” He said cheekily, clearly struggling to keep the smile down as he stepped off the path with his sister.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emily asked, a slight note of challenge in her voice.

“Well, nothing.” The elf said with a gentle shrug, the grin not leaving his face. “It’s perfectly understandable, what with... all you’ve been through today.”

Emily was clearly suspicious, but she let it drop as she walked past. As Anton followed behind her, he noticed Kalandra shooting her brother a confused look.

No sooner than they were a few paces away did the two night elves break into indistinct muttering behind them. Emily’s ears twitched in annoyance as she looked away somewhat bashfully.

“I’m pretty sure they know.” She growled.

“I thought they might. That guy was probably onto us from minute one,” Anton sighed. If he’d been less tired, he might have been panicking from being found out so easily. “I guess we should have come back in separate as well, maybe.”

“That might have been a good idea...” Emily said helplessly. “I should have thought of that.”

“Well, can’t be helped now. Like you said, we’ll just have to deal with it, right?” He reassured her, stifling a yawn as he did so. “Hopefully they just have the good sense to keep it to themselves.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

They returned to their silence as they walked through the garrison, trying to stay out of the way of any other people as best they could and keeping enough distance between them that no-one would think they were too closely entangled.

It was still the same guard on duty at the barracks as when they’d arrived earlier. This time he had only a quiet greeting to give as he waved them inside. There were a few people up and about in the barracks as they entered the main room, busying themselves with whatever tasks they’d been assigned; by Montoy, Anton had no doubt.

Once again, Anton and Emily stood awkwardly near the middle of the room for a moment, hesitating before going their separate ways. It felt like it would be more appropriate to share a more involved goodnight than the last one they’d bid each other, but there was simply no place for it in the middle of the barracks where people could see them.

“Well... Goodnight, Emily. I’ll see you in the morning.” He said, keeping his voice as casual as he could.

“Yeah. ‘Night, Anton.” She answered, her voice sounding carefully controlled.

He turned around and walked away to his own quarters reluctantly. It didn’t feel right to just walk away after the night they’d shared; he’d rather they didn’t have to sleep apart.

_It’s just a little while away. She’ll be there when I wake up, after all._

He did his best to force his discontent down as he shirked his boots and slipped back into bed. He knew that he had nothing to really complain about. He had a roof over his head, he had his job tomorrow, and now he had seeing Emily to look forward to.

He knew somehow that just like she’d promised, they’d both be alright. It had been a good day today, in the end; and together with her, it would be just as good tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. All they had to do was stick together and he knew they could ride the whole campaign out none the worse for wear.

As he let himself drift into sleep, he felt with utmost certainty - for the first time in a long while - that they’d be alright.


	10. Epilogue: Business As Usual

“... I’m just finding it hard to believe, is all.” Emily shrugged. “I can’t believe Montoy would just let us off with a warning.”

“Same here. I really thought he was going to go along with it just because Atoh said to.” Anton replied.

“Mmmm. Doesn’t lend much credence to your theory, does it?” She snickered.

“What?”

“The bet, you remember? You reckoned he was trying to get in her pants.”

The reminder made Anton’s gut fall. He’d seriously hoped she might have forgotten about that, especially given now that they’d been spared punishment despite Anchorite Atoh’s insistence.

Before they’d even had a chance to have breakfast when they woke, Montoy had dragged them in to his fancy new office and had them tell their side of the story. They stuck to their guns stubbornly, telling him the same thing they’d told Atoh: It was just a hug, it wasn’t anything serious, she’d completely misread the situation. They’d been prim and proper and professional the whole trip - except for the part where they’d just let Atoh bodyguard herself on the way back, but he didn’t really need to hear anything about that.

After a short deliberation, he’d seemingly decided to show them some mercy for once, sending them off to their shift on the north gate with little more than a reminder to be on their best behaviour when they were representing the Alliance. Anton had been nothing short of relieved at the time – he’d even managed to hold himself back from grumbling about being reassigned yet again – but Emily was right; it really didn’t do him any favours with that bet.

“Oh, yeah, that. Well, he still might be...” Anton said evasively.

Emily cast a disbelieving look his way. “You must be joking. He literally passed up an opportunity to split us up and get in her good books.”

“Yeah, well, we still don’t know. He might just be... I don’t know, valuing his code of morals first or something.”

“You’re delusional,” She laughed. “Soon as we get our pay, you’re giving a week’s worth to me.”

“No proof,” He insisted. He couldn’t just let her win that easily. “You aren’t getting squat.”

“Delusional,” She repeated mockingly.

He brushed her jibe off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I could still be right.”

She just laughed again, letting it go with a shake of her head as she turned her gaze out towards the mine. Anton mimicked her, giving the area around the garrison a cursory scan for any signs of danger. He didn’t really expect there to be, given how the goren problem had been dealt with and any invading force would be more likely to attack via the south gate than through the north, but it was still his job.

_Thinking about it properly, I’m actually glad to have this post instead. Should be a lot quieter here._

Yet again he saw nothing, and so he turned his attention back to what they’d both been doing before: nothing. Their shift was the perfect excuse to spend time together, and he was glad he hadn’t lost it. Granted, it wasn’t perfect – he could think of a fair few other things he’d rather be spending time doing with Emily, none of them fit for the public eye – but it was fine as it was.

The silence that fell between them was something much more comfortable than what it had been even the night before. He felt truly at ease around her, confident that while he might earn her judgment, he would never suffer her scorn. She was someone that he could really trust, and he was lucky to have her.

Her ears flicked back toward the garrison, a sure signal that someone was coming. True enough, he turned around to see the dwarf he vaguely remembered had introduced herself as Baros Alexston’s assistant.

_Brightstone, that’s her name._

As she neared, Anton was able to make out the tune she was happily humming to herself, though he didn’t recognize it. Seeing that they’d both noticed her, she raised one arm in cheerful greeting.

“Good evening to ye!”

“Is it actually evening this time, is it?” Anton inquired casually as he realized he had no idea what time it actually was. He’d forgotten to check the clock when he’d been woken for his shift, and the immovable night sky gave him no help in figuring it out himself.

“Certainly is, in fact! This’s my last job fer the day, then I’m off fer the night!” She beamed.

“Oh, lucky you. And here’s us just an hour into our shift,” Anton grumbled good-naturedly. “What have they got you doing in the mines this time, then?”

“Another inspection. Brass’s had ‘em shiftin’ gears in there now we don’t need so much stone fer the walls.” Brightstone explained cheerily. “They want me to check an’ see how they’ve been goin’ collectin’ that Blackrock ore in particular. The draenei’re all tellin’ us it’s useless, hard to mine and can’t smelt it an’ all, but we’re fixin’ to find out fer ourselves.”

“That does sound kind of useless.” Anton said skeptically. It sounded like a fool’s errand to him.

“Well, maybe. But we’ll find out!” She said enthusiastically. “So, can I go on through, then?”

“Yeah, go on.” Anton answered with a lazy step out of her way. Across the path Emily mirrored his motion. “Don’t have too much fun out there.”

She beamed another smile up as she passed between them, resuming humming her tune as she made her way out towards the mine. Anton and Emily both lazily watched her go.

“I’ve noticed you don’t like talking to people much sometimes.” He remarked idly, turning his gaze over to Emily with a questioning look.

“No need to when I’ve got you to do it for me.” She smirked.

“True enough,” He conceded, making a show of heaving a long-suffering sigh. “Sounds like you’re going to need me to stick around after we get out of here, I suppose...”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t want to,” She chided playfully. “We both know you do.”

“Maybe just a little.” He shrugged non-committally. “So what are we going to do once we’re out, anyway?”

“Well... That, I’m not sure on,” Emily answered a little more considerately. “I don’t know. Maybe we could just stay with the Army and see where that takes us.”

“Pass,” Anton said immediately. “Look where it took us in the first place - Here.”

“It’s not that bad here.” She rolled her eyes.

“Not terribly good though, either,” He countered. “We’d do better to just stay in Stormwind. At least nothing crazy happens there.”

“Didn’t it get sacked once in the Cataclysm?” Emily asked pointedly.

“Well, I mean - I suppose, but it was only like half of it. One time. And that was by a massive dragon, out of nowhere.” Anton admitted ungracefully. “Anyway, that’s still better than here. This place is non-stop crazy.”

“What about in the First War?”

“Alright, look. The point was, we’re way less likely to die in Stormwind than we are here.”

She gave a snort of laughter. “I get it, I’m only ribbing you. I mean, you’re right. But I don’t know – That might be kind of boring after all this.”

“Well, it’s like you said the other day or whenever it was. I’ll take boring over exciting any day.” He said flatly. “At least guard duty and routine drills don’t kill you like fighting orcs does.”

“Yeah, I know, but...” She nodded her head in concession. “I suppose. I guess I’ll have to think about it a bit more.”

They lapsed into quiet again, unceremoniously letting go of the discussion. Anton found himself deep in thought.

He’d always intended to just go back to Stormwind City and live quietly after the campaign was over. Though the Army was a fair bit dissimilar from the Guard, it hadn’t required too much adjustment for him to go from one to the other – it stood to reason that it would work the same going back the other way. He had certainly had enough of the sheer danger in the Army compared to the Guard, however. He wasn’t sure that he’d managed to get across to Emily just how much less dangerous keeping order and roughing up thieves and drunks tended to be than what they’d gone through here.

But then again – That was something she should know herself, now he thought on it. She’d done guard work before she joined the Army, as sure as he had. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t familiar with the job. Maybe she was right and he would get bored doing just that until he grew old and couldn’t anymore.

_I suppose... It might be alright if she’s there as well._

He kept his admission to himself, filing it away for when the topic arose again. He’d still prefer to stay where it was safer, but he knew with the certainty of fact that no matter how bad it got, he would be happier to stay with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who reads this note is gay.


End file.
